

Class p Z. 'i _ _ 

Book . S r < fa <o 

Copyright N° Gy 
A 

COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 










































FRANK R. STOCKTON 


Volume XI 


THE GREAT STONE OF 
SARDIS f THE WATER- 
DEVIL ^ ip f 







































THE .NOVELS AND STORIES OE 
* V FRA^k R. STOCKTON 

THE GREAT STONE OF 
SARDIS f THE WATER- 
DEYIL f % t 



NEW YORK 

CHARLES SCRIBNER’S SONS 
1900 


TWO COPIES HSCVBl V*D, 


Library or Coag re«% 

Office of tbe -o"7 -a, 

MAY 12 1900 

Kogltttr of Copyright* ' r* 

a, G r 



Copyright, 1897, by Harper & Brothers, 
1891, 1900, by Charles Scribner’s Sons 


THE DEVINNE PRE88. 


CONTENTS 

THE GREAT STOKE OF SARDIS 

CHAPTER PAGE 

i The Arrival of the Euterpe- Thalia . . 3 

ii The Sardis Works 11 

hi Margaret Baleigh 17 

iv The Mission of Samuel Block . . .24 

V Under Water . 36 

vi Voices from the Polar Seas . . .43 

vii Good News Goes from Sardis ... 52 

f 

viii The Devil on the Dipsey . . . .60 

ix The Artesian Bay 66 

x “Lake Shiver” 75 

xi They Believe it is the Polar Sea . . 85 

xn Captain Hubbell Takes Command . . 92 

xiii Longitude Everything .... 100 

xiv A Eegion of Nothingness .... 110 

xv The Automatic Shell .... 120 

xvi The Track of the Shell .... 127 
xvn Captain Hubbell Declines to Go Whaling 138 
xviii Mr. Marcy’s Canal 146 


v 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER 

xix The Icy Gateway . 
xx “That is how I Love You” 
xxi The Cave of Light . 
xxn Clewe’s Theory . 

xxiii The Last Dive of the Dipsey . 

xxiv Kovinski Comes to the Surface . 

xxv Laurels 


PAGE 

155 

165 

170 

179 

186 

192 

203 


THE WATER-DEVIL: A MARINE TALE . 223 


vi 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


\ 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


CHAPTER I 

THE ARRIVAL OF THE a EUTERPE -THALIA ” 

I T was about noon of a day in early summer that a 
westward-bound Atlantic liner was rapidly nearing 
the port of New York. Not long before, the old light- 
house on Montauk Point had been sighted, and the 
company on board the vessel were animated by 
the knowledge that in a few hours they would be 
at the end of their voyage. 

The vessel now speeding along the southern coast 
of Long Island was the Euterpe-Thalia , from South- 
ampton. On Wednesday morning she had left her 
English port, and many of her passengers were natu- 
rally anxious to be on shore in time to transact their 
business on the last day of the week. There were 
even some who expected to make their return voyage 
on the Melpomene- Thalia, which would leave New York 
on the next Monday. 

The Euterpe- Thalia was one of those combination 
ocean vessels which had now been in use for nearly 
ten years, and although the present voyage was not a 
particularly rapid one, it had been made in a little 
less than three days. 


3 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


As may easily be imagined, a vessel like this was a 
very different craft from the old steamers which used 
to cross the Atlantic— “ ocean greyhounds/ 7 they were 
called— in the latter part of the nineteenth century. 

It would be out of place here to give a full descrip- 
tion of the vessels which at the period of our story, in 
1947, crossed the Atlantic at an average time of three 
days, but an idea of their construction will suffice. 
Most of these vessels belonged to the class of the Eu- 
terpe- Thalia, and were, in fact, compound marine struc- 
tures, the two portions being entirely distinct from 
each other. The great hull of each of these vessels 
contained nothing but its electric engines and its 
propelling machinery, with the necessary fuel and 
adjuncts. 

The upper portion of the compound vessel consisted 
of decks and quarters for passengers and crew and 
holds for freight. These were all comprised within a 
vast upper hull, which rested upon the lower hull 
containing the motive power, the only point of con- 
tact being an enormous ball-and-socket joint. Thus, 
no matter how much the lower hull might roll and 
pitch and toss, the upper hull remained level and 
comparatively undisturbed. 

Not only were comfort to passengers and security 
to movable freight gained by this arrangement of the 
compound vessel, but it was now possible to build the 
lower hull of much less size than had been the custom 
in the former days of steamships, when the hull had 
to be large enough to contain everything. As the 
more modern hull held nothing but the machinery, 
it was small in comparison with the superincumbent 
upper hull, and thus the force of the engine, once 

4 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


needed to propel a vast mass through the resisting 
medium of the ocean, was now employed upon a com- 
paratively small hull, the great body of the vessel 
meeting with no resistance except that of the air. 

It was not necessary that the two parts of these 
compound vessels should always be the same. The 
upper hulls belonging to one of the transatlantic lines 
were generally so constructed that they could be 
adjusted to any one of their lower or motive-power 
hulls. Each hull had a name of its own, and so the 
combination name of the entire vessel was frequently 
changed. 

It was not three o’clock when the Euterpe- Thalia 
passed through the Narrows and moved slowly toward 
her pier on the Long Island side of the city. The 
quarantine officers who had accompanied the vessel 
on her voyage had dropped their report in the official 
tug which had met the vessel on her entrance into 
the harbor, and as the old custom-house annoyances 
had long since been abolished, most of the passengers 
were prepared for a speedy landing. 

One of these passengers— a man about thirty-five— 
stood looking out over the stern of the vessel, instead 
of gazing, as were most of his companions, toward the 
city which they were approaching. He looked out 
over the harbor, under the great bridge gently span- 
ning the distance between the western end of Long 
Island and the New Jersey shore,— its central pier 
resting where once lay the old Battery, — and so he 
gazed over the river, and over the houses stretching 
far to the west, as if his eyes could catch some signs 
of the country far beyond. This was Roland Clewe, 
the hero of our story, who had been studying and ex- 

5 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


perimenting for the past year in the scientific schools 
and workshops of Germany. It was toward his own 
laboratory and his own workshops, which lay out in 
the country far beyond the wide line of buildings and 
settlements which line the western bank of the Hud- 
son, that his heart went out and his eyes vainly strove 
to follow. 

Skilfully steered, the Thalia moved slowly between 
high stone piers of massive construction. The Euterpe, 
or upper part of the vessel, did not pass between 
the piers, but over them both, and when the pier- 
heads projected beyond her stern the motion of 
the lower vessel ceased. Then the great piston which 
supported the socket in which the ball of the Euterpe 
moved slowly began to descend into the central por- 
tion of the Thalia , and as the tide was low, it was not 
long before each side of the upper hull rested firmly 
and securely upon the stone piers. Then the socket 
on the lower vessel descended rapidly until it was 
entirely clear of the ball, and the Thalia backed out 
from between the piers to take its place in a dock 
where it would be fitted for the voyage of the next 
day but one, when it would move under the Melpomene , 
resting on its piers a short distance below, and, adjust- 
ing its socket to her ball, would lift her free from the 
piers and carry her across the ocean. 

The pier of the Euterpe was not far from the great 
Long Island and Hew Jersey Bridge, and Roland 
Clewe, when he reached the broad sidewalk which 
ran along the river-front, walked rapidly toward the 
bridge. When he came to it, he stepped into one of 
the elevators, which were placed at intervals along 
its sides from the water-front to the far-distant point 

6 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


where it touched the land, and, in company with a 
dozen other pedestrians, speedily rose to the top of the 
bridge, on which moved two great platforms or floors, 
one always keeping on its way to the east, and the 
other to the west. The floor of the elevator detached 
itself from the rest of the structure and kept company 
with the movable platform until all of its passengers 
had stepped on to the latter, when it returned with 
such persons as wished to descend at that point. 

As Clewe took his way along the platform, walking 
westward with it, as if he would thus hasten his ar- 
rival at the other end of the bridge, he noticed that 
great improvements had been made during his year 
of absence. The structures on the platforms, to which 
people might retire in bad weather or when they 
wished refreshments, were more numerous and appar- 
ently better appointed than when he had seen them 
last, and the long rows of benches on which passengers 
might sit in the open air during their transit had also 
increased in number. Many people walked across the 
bridge, taking their exercise, while some who were out 
for the air and for the sake of the view walked in the 
direction opposite to that in which the platform was 
moving, thus lengthening the pleasant trip. 

At the great elevator over the old Battery many 
passengers went down and many came up, but the 
wide platforms still moved to the east and moved to 
the west, never stopping or changing their rate of 
speed. 

Roland Clewe remained on the bridge until he had 
reached its western end, far out on the old Jersey flats, 
and there he took a car of the suspended electric line, 
which would carry him to his home, some fifty miles 

7 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


in the interior. The rails of this line ran along the 
top of parallel timbers, some twenty feet from the 
ground, and below and between these rails the cars 
were suspended, the wheels which rested on the rails 
being attached near the top of the car. Thus it was 
impossible for the cars to run off the track, and as 
their bottoms or floors were ten or twelve feet from 
the ground, they could meet with no dangerous ob- 
stacles. In consequence of the safety of this structure, 
the trains were run at a very high speed. 

Roland Clewe was a man who had given his life, 
even before he ceased to be a boy, to the investigation 
of physical science and its applications, and those who 
thought they knew him called him a great inventor ; 
but he, who knew himself better than any one else 
could know him, was aware that, so far, he had not 
invented anything worthy the power which he felt 
within himself. 

After the tidal wave of improvements and dis- 
coveries which had burst upon the world at the end 
of the nineteenth century, there had been a gradual 
subsidence of the waters of human progress, and year 
by year they sank lower and lower, until, when the 
twentieth century was yet young, it was a common 
tiling to say that the human race seemed to have gone 
backward fifty or even a hundred years. 

It had become fashionable to be unprogressive. 
Like old furniture in the century which had gone 
out. old manners, customs, and ideas had now become 
more attractive than those which were modern and 
present. Philosophers said that society was retro- 
grading, that it was becoming satisfied with less than 
was its due ; but society answered that it was falling 

8 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


back upon the things of its ancestors, which were 
sounder and firmer, more simple and beautiful, more 
worthy of the true man and woman, than all that 
mass of harassing improvement which had swept down 
upon mankind in the troubled and nervous days at 
the end of the nineteenth century. 

On the great highways, smooth and beautiful, the 
stage-coach had taken the place, to a great degree, of 
the railroad train ; the steamship, which moved most 
evenly and with less of the jarring and shaking con- 
sequent upon high speed, was the favored vessel with 
ocean travellers. It was not considered good form to 
read the daily papers, and only those hurried to their 
business who were obliged to do so in order that their 
employers might attend to their affairs in the leisurely 
manner which was then the custom of the business 
world. 

Fast horses had become almost unknown, and with 
those who still used these animals a steady walker was 
the favorite. Bicycles had gone out as the new cen- 
tury came in, it being a matter of course that they 
should be superseded by the new electric vehicles of 
every sort and fashion, on which one could work the 
pedals if he desired exercise, or sit quietly if his in- 
clinations were otherwise, and only the very young or 
the intemperate allowed themselves rapid motion on 
their electric wheels. It would have been considered 
as vulgar at that time to speed over a smooth road as 
it would have been thought in the nineteenth century 
to run along the city sidewalk. 

People thought the world moved slower— at all 
events, they hoped it would soon do so. Even the 
wiser revolutionists postponed their outbreaks. Suc- 

9 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


cess, they believed, was fain to smile upon effort 
which had been well postponed. 

Men came to look upon a telegram as an insult ; the 
telephone was preferred, because it allowed one to 
speak slowly if he chose. Snap-shot cameras were 
found only in the garrets. The fifteen-minute sit- 
tings now in vogue threw upon the plate the color of 
the eyes, hair, and the flesh-tones of the sitter. Ladies 
wore hoop-skirts. 

But these days of passivism at last passed by. Ear- 
nest thinkers had not believed in them ; they knew 
they were simply reactionary, and could not last. And 
the century was not twenty years old when the world 
found itself in a storm of active effort never known in 
its history before. Religion, politics, literature, and 
art were called upon to get up and shake themselves 
free of the drowsiness of their years of inaction. 

On that great and crowded stage where the thinkers 
of the world were busy in creating new parts for them- 
selves, without much reference to what other people 
were doing in their parts, Roland Clewe was now ready 
to start again, with more earnestness and enthusiasm 
than before, to essay a character which, if acted as he 
wished to act it, would give him exceptional honor 
and fame, and to the world, perhaps, exceptional 
advantage. 


10 


CHAPTER II 


THE SARDIS WORKS 

At the little station of Sardis, in the hill-country of 
New Jersey, Roland Clewe alighted from the train, 
and almost instantly his hand was grasped by an 
elderly man, plainly and even roughly dressed, who 
appeared wonderfully glad to see him. Clewe also 
was greatly pleased at the meeting. 

“Tell me, Samuel, how goes everything?” said 
Clewe, as they walked off. “Have you anything to 
say that you did not telegraph ? How is your wife ? ” 

“She’s all right,” was the answer. “And there’s 
nothin’ happened, except, night before last, a man 
tried to look into your lens-house.” 

“How did he do that?” exclaimed Clewe, suddenly 
turning upon his companion. “I am amazed ! Did 
he use a ladder ? ” 

Old Samuel grinned. “He couldn’t do that, you 
know, for the flexible fence would keep him off. No, 
he sailed over the place in one of those air-screw 
machines, with a fan workin’ under the car to keep 
it up.” 

“And so he soared up above my glass roof and looked 
down, I suppose ? ” 


11 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


“That’s what he did,” said Samuel, “but he had a 
good deal of trouble doin’ it. It was moonlight, and 
I watched him.” 

“Why didn’t you fire at him?” asked Clewe, “or 
at least let fly one of the ammonia squirts and bring 
him down?” 

“I wanted to see what he would do,” said the old 
man. “The machine he had couldn’t be steered, of 
course. He could go up well enough, but the wind 
took him where it wanted to. But I must give this 
feller the credit of sayin’ that he managed his basket 
pretty well. He carried it a good way to the wind- 
ward of the lens-house, and then sent it up, expectin’ 
the wind to take it directly over the glass roof, but it 
shifted a little, and so he missed the roof, and had to 
try it again. He made two or three bad jobs of it, 
but finally managed it by hitchin’ a long cord to a 
tree, and then the wind held him there steady enough 
to let him look down for a good while.” 

“You don’t tell me that ! ” cried Clewe. “Did you 
stay there and let him look down into my lens-house ? ” 

The old man laughed. “I let him look down,” said 
he, “but he didn’t see nothin’. I was laughin’ at him 
all the time he was at work. He had his instru- 
ments with him, and he was turnin’ down his different 
kinds of lights, thinkin’, of course, that he could see 
through any kind of coverin’ that we put over our 
machines. But, bless you ! he couldn’t do nothin’, and 
I could almost hear him swear as he rubbed his eyes 
after he had been lookin’ down for a little while.” 

Clewe laughed. “I see,” said he. “I suppose you 
turned on the photo-hose.” 

“That’s just what I did,” said the old man. “Every 
12 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


night while you were away I had the lens-room filled 
with the revolving-light squirts, and when these were 
turned on I knew there was no gettin’ any kind of rays 
through them. A feller may look through a roof and 
a wall, but he can’t look through light cornin’ the 
other way, especially when it’s twistin’ and curlin’ 
and spittin’.” 

“ That’s a capital idea,” said Clewe. “I never 
thought of using the photo -hose in that way. But 
there are very few people in this world who would 
know anything about my new lens machinery even if 
they saw it. This fellow must have been that Pole, 
Rovinski. I met him in Europe, and I think he came 
over here not long before I did.” 

“ That’s the man, sir,” said Samuel. “I turned a 
needle search-light on him just as he was givin’ up the 
business, and I have got a little photograph of him at 
the house. His face is mostly beard, but you’ll know 
him.” 

“What became of him?” asked Clewe. 

“My light frightened him,” he said, “and the wind 
took him over into the woods. I thought, as you were 
cornin’ home so soon, I wouldn’t do nothin’ more. 
You had better attend to him yourself.” 

“Very good,” said Clewe. “I’ll do that.” 

The home of Roland Clewe, a small house plainly 
furnished, but good enough for a bachelor’s quarters, 
stood not half a mile from the station, and near it were 
the extensive buildings which he called his works. 
Here were laboratories and large machine-shops in 
which many men were busy at all sorts of strange con- 
trivances in metal and other materials ; and, besides 
other small edifices, there was a great round tower-like 
13 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


structure, with smooth iron walls thirty feet high and 
without windows, which was lighted and ventilated 
from the top. This was Clewe’s special workshop, 
and, besides old Samuel Block and such workmen as 
were absolutely necessary and could be trusted, few 
people ever entered it but himself. The industries in 
the various buildings were diverse, some of them hav- 
ing no apparent relation to the others. Each of them 
was expected to turn out something which would rev- 
olutionize something or other in this world. But it 
was to his lens-house that Roland Clewe gave, in these 
days, his special attention. Here a great enterprise 
was soon to begin, more important, in his eyes, than 
anything else which had engaged human endeavor. 

When, sometimes, in his moments of reflection, he 
felt obliged to consider the wonders of applied elec- 
tricity, and give them their due place in comparison 
with the great problem he expected to solve, he had 
his moments of doubt. But these moments did not 
come frequently. The day would arrive when from 
his lens -house there would be promulgated a great 
discovery which would astonish the world. 

During Roland Clewe’s absence in Germany his 
works had been left under the general charge of 
Samuel Block. This old man was not a scientific 
person ; he was not a skilled mechanic ; in fact, he 
had been in early life a shoemaker. But when Ro- 
land Clewe, some five years before, had put up his 
works near the little village of Sardis, he had sent for 
Block, whom he had known all his life, and who was at 
that time the tenant of a small farm, built a cottage 
for him and his wife, and told him to take care of the 
place. From planning the grounds and superintend- 
14 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


ing fences, old Sammy had begun to keep an eye upon 
builders and mechanics, and being a very shrewd 
man, he had gradually widened the sphere of his care- 
taking, until, at this time, he exercised a nominal 
supervision over all the buildings. He knew what 
was going on in each ; he had a good idea, sometimes, 
of the scientific basis of this or that bit of machinery, 
and had gradually become acquainted with the work- 
ings and management of many of the instruments, and 
now and then he gave to his employer very good hints 
in regard to the means of attaining an end, more es- 
pecially in the line of doing something by instru- 
mentalities not intended for that purpose. If Sammy 
could take any machine which had been constructed 
to bore holes, and with it plug up orifices, he would 
consider that he had been of advantage to his kind. 

Block was a thoroughly loyal man. The interests 
of his employer were always held by him first and 
above everything. But although the old man under- 
stood sometimes very well, and always in a fair degree, 
what the inventor was trying to accomplish, and ap- 
preciated the magnitude and often the amazing nature 
of his operations, he never believed in any of them. 

Sammy was a thoroughly old-fashioned man. He 
had been born and had grown up in the days when a 
steam-locomotive was good enough and fast enough for 
any sensible traveller, and he greatly preferred a 
good pair of horses to any vehicle which one steered 
with a handle and regulated the speed thereof with a 
knob. Roland Clewe might devise all the wonderful 
contrivances he pleased, and he might do all sorts of 
astonishing things with them, but Sammy would still 
be of the opinion that, even if the machines did all 
15 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


that they were expected to do, the things they did 
generally would not be worth the doing. 

Still, the old man would not interfere, by word or 
deed, with any of the plans or actions of his employer. 
On the contrary, he would help him in every possible 
way— by fidelity, by suggestion, by constant devotion 
and industry. But, in spite of all that, it was one of 
the most firmly founded principles of his life that 
Roland Clewe had no right to ask him to believe in 
the value of the wild and amazing schemes he had on 
hand. 

Before Roland Clewe slept that night, he had vis- 
ited all his workshops, factories, and laboratories. His 
men had been busily occupied during his absence, 
under the directions of their various special managers, 
and those in charge were of the opinion that every- 
thing had progressed as favorably and as rapidly as 
should have been expected. But Roland Clewe was 
not satisfied, even though many of his inventions and 
machines were much nearer completion than he had 
expected to find them. The work necessary to be 
done in his lens -house before he could go on with the 
great work of his life was not yet finished. As well 
as he could judge, it would be a month or two before 
he could devote himself to those labors in his lens- 
house the thought of which had so long filled his mind 
by day and even during his sleep. 


16 


CHAPTER III 


MARGARET RALEIGH 

After breakfast the following morning, Roland Clewe 
mounted bis horse and rode over to a handsome house 
which stood upon a hill about a mile and a half from 
Sardis. Horses, which had almost gone out of use 
during the first third of the century, were now get- 
ting to be somewhat in fashion again. Many people 
now appreciated the pleasure which these animals had 
given to the world since the beginning of history, and 
whose place, in an aesthetic sense, no inanimate ma- 
chine could supply. As Roland Clewe swung himself 
from the saddle at the foot of a broad flight of steps, 
the house door was opened and a lady appeared. 

“I saw you coming ! ” she exclaimed, running down 
the steps to meet him. 

She was a handsome woman, inclined to be tall, and 
some five years younger than Clewe. This was Mrs. 
Margaret Raleigh, partner with Roland Clewe in the 
works at Sardis, and, in fact, the principal owner of 
that great estate. She was a widow, and her husband 
had been not only a man of science, but a very rich 
man, and when he died, at the outset of his career, 
his widow believed it her duty to devote his fortune to 
17 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


the prosecution and development of scientific works. 
She knew Roland Clewe as a hard student and worker, 
as a man of brilliant and original ideas, and as the 
originator of schemes which, if carried out success- 
fully, would place him among the great inventors of 
the world. 

She was not a scientific woman in the strict sense of 
the word, but she had a most thorough and apprecia- 
tive sympathy with all forms of physical research, and 
there was a distinctiveness and grandeur in the aims 
toward which Roland Clewe had directed his life-work 
which determined her to unite, with all the power of 
her money and her personal encouragement, in the 
labors he had set for himself. 

Therefore it was that the main part of the fortune 
left by Herbert Raleigh had been invested in the 
shops and foundries at Sardis, and that Roland Clewe 
and Margaret Raleigh were partners and co-owners in 
the business and the plant of the establishment. 

“I am glad to welcome you back,” said she, her 
hand in his. “But it strikes me as odd to see you 
come upon a horse. I should have supposed that by 
this time you would arrive sliding over the tree-tops 
on a pair of aerial skates.” 

“No,” said he. “I may invent that sort of thing, 
but I prefer to use a horse. Don’t you remember my 
mare * I rode her before I went away. I left her in 
old Sammy’s charge, and he has been riding her every 
day.” 

“And glad enough to do it, I am sure,” said she, 
“for I have heard him say that the things he hates 
most in this world are dead legs. ‘When I can’t use 
mine,’ he said, ‘let me have some others that are 
18 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


alive . 7 This is such a pretty creature / 7 she added, as 
Clewe was looking about for some place to which he 
might tie his animal, “that I have a great mind to 
learn to ride myself ! 77 

“A woman on a horse would be a queer sight , 77 said 
he ; and with this they went into the house. 

The conference that morning in Mrs. Raleigh’s 
library was a long and somewhat anxious one. For 
several years the money of the Raleigh estate had 
been freely and generously expended upon the enter- 
prises in hand at the Sardis Works, but so far nothing 
of important profit had resulted from the operations. 
Many things had been carried on satisfactorily and 
successfully to various stages, but nothing had been 
finished, and now the two partners had to admit that 
the work which Clewe had expected to begin immedi- 
ately upon his return from Europe must be postponed. 
Still, there was no sign of discouragement in the voices 
or the faces — it may be said, in the souls— of the man 
and woman who sat there talking across a table. He 
was as full of hope as ever he was, and she as full of 
faith. 

They were an interesting couple to look upon. He, 
dark, a little hollow in the cheeks, a slight line or two 
of anxiety in the forehead, a handsome, well-cut mouth, 
without beard, and a frame somewhat spare but strong, 
a man of graceful but unaffected action, dressed in a 
riding-coat, breeches, and leather leggings. She, her 
cheeks colored with earnest purpose, her gray eyes 
rather larger than usual as she looked up from the 
paper where she had been calculating, was dressed in 
the simple, artistic fashion of the day. The falling 
folds of the semi-clinging fabrics accommodated them- 
19 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


selves well to a figure which even at that moment of 
rest suggested latent energy and activity. 

“If we have to wait for the Artesian ray/’ she said, 
“we must try to carry out something else. People 
are watching us, talking of us, expecting something of 
us. We must give them something. How the ques- 
tion is, what shall that he ? ” 

“The way I look at it is this,” said her companion. 
“For a long time you have been watching and wait- 
ing and expecting something, and it is time that I 
should give you something. How the question is—” 
“Hot at all,” said she, interrupting. “You arrogate 
too much to yourself. I don’t expect you to give any- 
thing to me. We are working together, and it is 
both of us who must give this poor old world some- 
thing to satisfy it for a while, until we can disclose to 
it that grand discovery, grander than anything that 
it has ever even imagined. I want to go on talking 
about it, but I shall not do it. We must keep our 
minds tied down to some present purpose. How, Mr. 
Clewe, what is there that we can take up and carry on 
immediately ? Can it be the great shell ? ” 

Clewe shook his head. 

“Ho,” said he. “That is progressing admirably, but 
many things are necessary before we can experiment 
with it.” 

“Since you were away,” said she, “I have often 
been down to the works to look at it, but everything 
about it seems to go so slowly. However, I suppose it 
will go fast enough when it is finished.” 

“Yes,” said he. “I hope it will go fast enough to 
overturn the artillery of the world. But, as you say, 
don’t let us talk about the things for which we must 
20 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


wait. I will carefully consider everything tliat is in 
operation, and to-morrow I will suggest something 
with which we can go on.” 

“After all,” said she, as they stood together before 
parting, “I cannot take my mind from the Artesian 
ray.” 

“Nor can I,” he answered, “but for the present 
we must put our hands to work at something else.” 

The Artesian ray of which these two spoke was 
an invention upon which Eoland Clewe had been 
experimenting for a long time, and which had been 
the object of his labors and studies while in Europe. 
In the first decade of the century it had been gen- 
erally supposed that the X ray, or cathode ray, had 
been developed and applied to the utmost extent of its 
capability. It was used in surgery and in mechanical 
arts, and in many varieties of scientific operations, 
but no considerable advance in its line of application 
had been recognized for a quarter of a century. 

But Eoland Clewe had come to believe in the exist- 
ence of a photic force somewhat similar to the cathode 
ray, but of infinitely greater significance and impor- 
tance to the searcher after physical truth. Simply 
described, his discovery was a powerful ray produced 
by a new combination of electric lights, which would 
penetrate down into the earth, passing through all 
substances which it met in its way, and illuminating 
and disclosing everything through which it passed. 

All matter likely to be found beneath the surface of 
the earth in that part of the country had been experi- 
mented upon by Clewe, and nothing had resisted the 
penetrating and illuminating influence of his ray— 
21 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


well called Artesian ray, for it was intended to bore 
into the bowels of the earth. After making many 
minor trials of the force and powers of his light, Ro- 
land Clewe had undertaken the construction of a 
massive apparatus by which he believed a ray could 
be generated which, little by little, perhaps foot by 
foot, would penetrate into the earth and light up 
everything between the farthest point it had attained 
and the lenses of his machine. That is to say, he 
hoped to produce a long hole of light, about three feet 
in diameter and as deep as it was possible to make it 
descend, in which he could see all the various strata 
and deposits of which the earth is composed. How 
far he could send down this piercing cylinder of light 
he did not allow himself to consider. With a small 
and imperfect machine he had seen several feet into 
the ground. With a great and powerful apparatus 
such as he was now constructing, why should he not 
look down below the deepest point to which man’s 
knowledge had ever reached— down so far that he 
must follow his descending light with a telescope, 
down, down until he had discovered the hidden secrets 
of the earth I 

The peculiar quality of this light, which gave it its 
great preeminence over all other penetrating rays, 
was the power it possessed of illuminating an object, 
passing through it, rendering it transparent and 
invisible, illuminating the opaque substance it next 
met in its path, and afterwards rendering that trans- 
parent. If the rocks and earth in the cylindrical 
cavities of light which Clewe had already produced in 
his experiments had actually been removed with pick- 
axes and shovels, the lighted hole a few feet in depth 
22 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


could not have appeared more real, the bottom and 
sides of the little well could not have been revealed 
more sharply and distinctly ; and yet, there was no 
hole in the ground, and if one should try to put his 
foot into the lighted perforation, he would find it as 
solid as any other part of the earth. 


23 


CHAPTER IV 

THE MISSION OF SAMUEL BLOCK 

Not far from the works at Sardis there was a large 
pond, which was formed by the damming of a stream 
which at this point ran between high hills. In order 
to obtain a sufficient depth of water for his marine 
experiments, Roland Clewe had built an unusually 
high and strong dam, and this body of water, which 
was called a lake, widened out considerably behind the 
dam and stretched back for more than half a mile. 

He was standing on the shore of this lake, early the 
next morning, in company with several workmen, ex- 
amining a curious-looking vessel which was moored 
near by, when Margaret Raleigh came walking toward 
him. When he saw her he left the men and went to 
meet her. 

“You could not wait until I came to your house to 
tell you what I was going to do ? ” he said, smiling. 

“No,” she answered, “I could not. The Artesian 
ray kept me awake nearly all night, and I felt that I 
must quiet my mind as soon as I could by giving it 
something real and tangible to take hold of. Now 
what is it that you are going to do f Anything in the 
ship line ? ” 


24 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


“Yes,” said he, “it is something in that line. But 
let ns walk back a little $ I am not quite ready to tell 
the men everything. I have been thinking,” he said, 
as they moved together from the lake, “of that practi- 
cal enterprise which we must take up and finish, in 
order to justify ourselves to the public and to those 
who have in various ways backed up our enterprises, 
and I have concluded that the best thing I can do is 
to carry out my plan of going to the north pole.” 

“What ! ” she exclaimed. “You are not going to try 
to do that— you yourself ? ” And as she spoke her voice 
trembled a little. 

“Yes,” said he, “I thought I would go myself, or 
else send Sammy.” 

She laughed. 

“Ridiculous ! ” said she. “Send Sammy Block ! 
You are joking? ” 

“No,” said he, “I am not. I have been planning 
the expedition, and I think Sammy would be an ex- 
cellent man to take charge of it. I might go part of 
the way,— at least, far enough to start him,— and I 
could so arrange matters that Sammy would have no 
difficulty in finishing the expedition, but I do not 
think that I could give up all the time that such an 
enterprise deserves. It is not enough merely to find 
the pole : one should stay there and make observa- 
tions which would be of service.” 

“But if Sammy finishes the journey himself,” she 
said, “his will be the glory.” 

“Let him have it,” replied Clewe. “If my method 
of arctic exploration solves the great problem of the 
pole, I shall be satisfied with the glory I get from the 
conception. The mere journey to the northern end 
25 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


of the earth’s axis is of slight importance. I shall be 
glad to have Sammy go first, and have as many follow 
him as may choose to travel in that direction.” 

“Yet it is a great achievement,” said she. “I would 
give much to be the first human being who has placed 
his foot upon the north pole.” 

“You would get it wet, I am afraid,” said Clewe, 
smiling. “But that is not the kind of glory I crave. 
If I can help a man to go there, I shall be very will- 
ing to do so, provided he will make me a favorable 
report of his discoveries.” 

“Tell me all about it,” she said. “When will you 
start ? How many will go ? ” 

“There is some work to be done on that boat,” said 
he. “Let me set the men at it, and then we will go 
into the office, and I will lay everything before you.” 

When they were seated in a quiet little room at- 
tached to one of the large buildings, Roland Clewe 
made ready to describe his proposed arctic expedition 
to his partner, into whose mind the wonderful enter- 
prise had entered, driving out the disturbing thoughts 
of the Artesian ray. 

“You have told me about it before,” said she, “but 
I am not quite sure that I have it all straight in my 
mind. You will go, I suppose, in a submarine boat— 
that is, whoever goes will go in it ? ” 

“Yes,” said he, “for part of the way. My plan is 
to proceed in an ordinary vessel as far north as Cape 
Tariff, taking the Dipsey , my submarine boat, in tow. 
The exploring party, with the necessary stores and 
instruments, will embark on the Dipsey , but before 
they start they will make a telegraphic connection 
with the station at Cape Tariff*. The Dipsey will 
26 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


carry one of those light, portable cables, which will 
be wound on a drum in her hold, and this will be 
paid out as she proceeds on her way. Thus, you see, 
by means of the cable from Cape Tariff to St. John’s, 
we can be in continual communication with Sammy, 
no matter where he may go ; for there is no reason to 
suppose that the ocean in those Northern regions is 
too deep to allow the successful placing of a tele- 
graphic cable. 

“My plan is a very simple one, but as we have not 
talked it over for some time, I will describe it in full. 
All explorers who have tried to get to the north pole 
have met with the same bad fortune. They could not 
pass over the vast and awful regions of ice which lay 
between them and the distant point at which they 
aimed. The deadly ice-land was always too much for 
them. They died or they turned back. 

“When flying-machines were brought to supposed 
perfection, some twenty years ago, it was believed 
that the pole would easily be reached, but there were 
always the wild and wicked winds, in which no steer- 
ing apparatus could be relied upon. We may steer 
and manage our vessels in the fiercest storms at sea, 
but when the ocean moves in one great tidal wave our 
rudders are of no avail. Everything rushes on to- 
gether, and our strongest ships are cast high up on 
the land. 

“So it happened to the Canadian Bagne, who went 
in 1927 in the best flying-ship ever made, and which 
it was supposed could be steadily kept upon its way 
without regard to the influence of the strongest winds. 
But a great hurricane came down from the north, as if 
square miles of atmosphere were driving onward in a 
27 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


steady mass, and hurled him and his ship against an 
iceberg, and nothing of his vessel but pieces of wood 
and iron, which the bears could not eat, was ever seen 
again. This was the last polar expedition of that sort, 
or any sort. But my plan is so easy of accomplish- 
ment,— at least, so it seems to me,— and so devoid of 
risk and danger, that it amazes me that it has never 
been tried before. In fact, if I had not thought that 
it would be such a comparatively easy thing to go to 
the pole, I believe I should have been there long ago. 
But I have always considered that it could be done at 
some season when more difficult and engrossing proj- 
ects were not pressing upon me. 

“What I propose to do is to sink down below the 
bottom of the ice in the arctic regions, and then to 
proceed in a direct line northward to the pole. The 
distance between the lower portions of the ice and the 
bottom of the Arctic Ocean I believe to be quite suffi- 
cient to allow me all the room needed for navigation. 
I do not think it necessary even to consider the con- 
tingency of the greatest iceberg or floe reaching the 
bottom of the arctic waters. Consequently, without 
trouble or' danger, the Dipsey can make a straight 
course for the extreme north. 

“By means of the instruments the Dipsey will carry, 
it will be comparatively easy to determine the posi- 
tion of the pole, and before this point is reached I be- 
lieve she will find herself in an open sea, where she 
may rise to the surface. But if this should not be the 
case, a comparatively thin place in the ice will be 
chosen, and a great opening blown through it by 
means of an ascensional shell, several of which she will 
carry. She will then rise to the surface of the water 
28 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


in this opening, and the necessary operations will be 
carried on.” 

“Mr. Clewe,” said Margaret Ealeigh, “the thing is 
so terrible I cannot bear to think of it. The Dipsey 
may have to sail hundreds and hundreds of miles 
under the ice, shut in as if an awful lid were put over 
her. No matter what happened down there, she could 
not come up and get out. It would be the same thing 
as having a vast sky of ice stretched out above one. 
I should think the very idea of it would make people 
shudder and die.” 

“Oh, it is not so bad as all that,” answered Clewe. 
“There is nothing so dear to the marine explorer as 
plenty of water and plenty of room to sail in, and 
under the ice the Dipsey will find all that.” 

“But there are so many dangers,” said she, “that 
you cannot provide against in advance.” 

“That is very true,” said he, “but I have thought 
so much about them, and I have studied and consulted 
so much about them, that I think I have provided 
against all the dangers we have reason to expect. To 
me the whole business seems like very plain, straight- 
forward sailing.” 

“It may seem so here,” said Margaret Ealeigh, “but 
it will be quite another thing out under the arctic 
ice.” 

Preparations for the expedition were pushed for- 
ward as rapidly as possible, and Clewe would have 
been delighted to make this voyage into the unseen 
regions of the nether ice, but he knew that it was his 
duty not to lose time or to risk his life when he was 
on the brink of a discovery far more wonderful, far 
more important to the world, than the finding of the 
29 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


pole. Therefore, he determined that he would go 
with the expedition no farther than the point where 
the ice would prevent the farther progress of the ves- 
sel in which they would sail from New York. 

It was not to be supposed that Roland Clewe in- 
tended to intrust such an expedition to the absolute 
command of such a man as old Samuel Block. There 
would be on board the Dipsey an electrician who had 
long been preparing himself for this expedition ; there 
were to be other scientific men; there would be a 
submarine engineer, and such minor officers and assist- 
ants as would be necessary. But Clewe wanted some 
one who would represent him, who could be trusted 
to act in his place in case of success or of failure, who 
could be thoroughly depended upon should a serious 
emergency arise. Such a man was Samuel Block, and, 
somewhat strange to say, old Sammy was perfectly 
willing to go to the pole. He was always ready for 
anything within bounds of his duty, and those bounds 
included everything which Mr. Clewe wished done. 

Sammy was an old-fashioned man, and therefore, in 
talking over arrangements with Roland Clewe, he 
insisted upon having a sailor in the party. 

“In old times,” said he, “when I was a young man, 
nobody ever thought of settin’ out on any kind of sea 
voyagin’ without havin’ a sailor along. The fact is, 
they used to be pretty much all sailors.” 

“But in this expedition,” said Clewe, “a sailor would 
be out of place. One of your old-fashioned mariners 
would not know what to do under the water. Sub- 
marine voyaging is an entirely different profession 
from that of the old-time navigator.” 

“I know all that,” said Sammy. “I know how 
30 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


everything is a machine nowadays. But I shall never 
forget what a glorious thing it was to sail on the sea, 
with the wind blowin’ and the water curlin’ beneath 
your keel. I lived on the coast, and used to go out 
whenever I had a chance. But things is mightily 
changed nowadays. Just think of that yacht race in 
England the other day— a race between two electric 
yachts, with a couple of vessels ploughin’ along to 
windward, carryin’ between ’em a board fence thirty 
feet high to keep the wind off the yachts and give ’em 
both smooth water and equal chance. I can’t get used 
to that sort of thing, and I tell you, sir, that if I am 
goin’ on a voyage to the pole, I want to have a sailor 
along. If everything goes all right, we must come to 
the top of the water some time, and then we ought to 
have at least one man who understands surface navi- 
gation.” 

“All right,” said Clewe. “Get your sailor.” 

“I’ve got my eye on him. He’s a Cape Cod man, and 
he’s not so very old, either. When he was a boy people 
went about in ships with sails, and even after he grew 
up Cap’n Jim was a great feller to manage a cat-boat ; 
for things has moved slower on the cape than in many 
parts of the country.” 

So Captain Jim Hubbell was engaged as sailor to 
the expedition $ and when he came on to Sardis and 
looked over the Dipsey , he expressed a general opinion 
of her construction and capabilities which indicated a 
disposition on his part to send her, and all others 
fashioned after her plan, to depths a great deal lower 
than ever had been contemplated by their inventors. 
Still, as he wanted very much to go to the pole if it 
was possible that he could get there, and as the wages 
31 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


offered him were exceedingly liberal, Captain Jim 
enlisted in the party. His duties were to begin when 
the Dijpsey floated on the surface of the sea like a 
common-sense craft. 

A day or two before the expedition was ready to 
start, Roland Clewe was very much surprised, one 
morning, by a visit from Sammy’s wife, Mrs. Sarah 
Block, who lost no time in informing him that she 
had made up her mind to accompany her husband on 
the perilous voyage he was about to make. 

“You!” said Clewe. “You could not go on such 
an expedition as that ! ” 

“If Sammy goes, I go,” said Mrs. Block. “If it is 
dangerous for me, it is dangerous for him. I have been 
tryin’ to get sense enough into his head to make him 
stay at home, but I can’t do it, so I have made up 
my mind that I go with him or he don’t go. We have 
travelled together on top of the land, and we have 
travelled together on top of the water, and if there’s 
to be travellin’ under the water, why, then, we travel 
together all the same. If Sammy goes polin’, I go 
polin’. I think he’s a fool to do it, but if he’s goin’ 
to be a fool, I am goin’ to be a fool. And as for my 
bein’ in the way, you needn’t think of that, Mr. Clewe. 
I can cook for the livin’, I can take care of the sick, 
and I can sew up the dead in shrouds.” 

“All right, Mrs. Block,” said Clewe. “If you insist 
on it, and Sammy is willing, you may go. But I will 
beg of you not to say anything about the third class 
of good offices which you propose to perform for 
the party, for it might cast a gloom over some of the 
weaker-minded.” 

“Cast a gloom ! ” said Mrs. Block. “If all I hear is 
32 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


true, there will be a general gloom over everything, 
that will be like havin’ a black pocket-handkercher 
tied over your head, and I don’t know that anything 
I could say would make that gloom more gloomier.” 

When Margaret Raleigh parted with Clewe on the 
deck of the Go IAghtly , the large electric vessel which 
was to tow the Dipsey up to the limits of navigable 
Northern waters, she knew he must make a long jour- 
ney,— nearly twice as far as the voyage to England,— 
before she could hear from him ; but when he arrived 
at Cape Tariff, a point far up on the northwestern 
coast of Greenland, she would hear from him, for 
from this point there was telegraphic communication 
with the rest of the world. There was a little station 
there, established by some commercial companies, and 
their agent was a telegraph operator. 

The passage from New York to Cape Tariff was an 
uneventful one, and when Clewe disembarked at the 
lonely Greenland station he was greeted by a long 
message from Mrs. Raleigh, the principal import of 
which was that on no account must he allow himself 
to be persuaded to go on the submarine voyage of the 
Dipsey. On his part, Clewe had no desire to make any 
change in his plans. During all the long voyage north- 
ward his heart had been at Sardis. 

The Dipsey was a comparatively small vessel, but it 
afforded comfortable accommodations for a dozen or 
more people, and there was room for all the stores 
which would be needed for a year. She was furnished, 
besides, with books and every useful and convenient 
contrivance which had been thought desirable for her 
peculiar expedition. 

When everything was ready, Roland Clewe took 
33 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


leave of the officers, the crew, and the passenger on 
board the Dipsey , and the last-mentioned, as she 
shook hands with him, shed tears. 

“It seems to me like a sort of a congregational sui- 
cide, Mr. Clewe,” said she. “And it can’t even be said 
that all the members are doin’ it of their own accord, 
for I am not. If Sammy did not go, I would not, but 
if he does, I do, and there’s the end of that. And I 
suppose it won’t be very much longer before there’s 
the end of all of us. I hope you will tell Mrs. Kaleigh 
that I sent my best love to her with my last words ; 
for even if I was to see her again, it would seem to me 
like beginning all over again, and this would be the 
end of this part of my life all the same. What I hope 
and pray for is that none of the party may die of any 
kind of a disease before the rest all go to their end 
together $ for remains on board an under-water vessel 
is somethin’ which mighty few nerves would be able 
to stand.” 

When all farewells had been said, Mr. Clewe went 
on board the Go Lightly , on the deck of which were 
her officers and men and the few inhabitants of 
the station, and then the plate -glass hatchways of the 
Dipsey were tightly closed, and she began to sink 
until she entirely disappeared below the surface of the 
water, leaving above her a little floating glass globe, 
connected with her by an electric wire. 

As the Dipsey went under the sea, this little globe 
followed her on the surface, and the Go Lightly imme- 
diately began to move after her. This arrangement 
had been made, as Clewe wished to follow the Dipsey 
for a time, in order to see if everything was working 
properly with her. She kept on a straight course, 
34 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


flashing a light into the little globe every now and 
then, and finally, after meeting some floating ice, she 
shattered the globe with an explosion, which was the 
signal agreed upon to show that all was well, and that 
the Dipsey had started off alone on the submarine 
voyage to the pole. 

Roland Clewe gazed out over the wide stretch of 
dark-green waves and glistening crests, where nothing 
could be seen which indicated life except a distant, 
wearily flapping sea-bird, and then, turning his back 
upon the pole, he made preparations for his return 
voyage to New York, at which port he might expect 
to receive direct news from Sammy Block and his 
companions. 


35 


CHAPTER V 


UNDER WATER 

When the Dipsey, the little submarine vessel which 
had started to make its way to the north pole under 
the ice of the arctic regions, had sunk out of sight 
under the waters, it carried a very quiet and earnestly 
observant party. Every one seemed anxious to know 
what would happen next, and all those whose duties 
would allow them to do so gathered under the great 
skylight in the upper deck, and gazed upward at the 
little glass bulb on the surface of the water, which 
they were towing by means of an electric wire ; and 
every time a light was flashed into this bulb, it seemed 
to them as if they were for an instant reunited to that 
vast open world outside of the ocean. When at last 
the glass globe was exploded, as a signal that the 
Dipsey had cut loose from all ties which connected 
her with the outer world, they saw through the water 
above them the flash and the sparks, and then all 
was darkness. 

The interior of the submarine vessel was brightly 
lighted by electric lamps, and the souls of the people 
inside of her soon began to brighten under the influ- 
ence of their work and the interest they took in their 
36 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


novel undertaking. There was, however, one excep- 
tion— the soul of Mrs. Block did not brighten. 

Mrs. Sarah Block was a peculiar person. She was 
her husband’s second wife, and was about forty years 
of age. Her family were country people, farmers, and 
her life as a child was passed among old-fashioned 
folk, many of whom had lived in the past century, and 
had brought their old-fashioned ideas with them into 
this. But Sarah did not wish to be old-fashioned. 
She sympathized with the social movements of the 
day $ she believed in inventions and progress ; she 
went to school and studied a great deal which her 
parents never heard of, and which she very promptly 
forgot. When she grew up she wore the widest hoop- 
skirts ; she was one of the first to use an electric spin- 
ning-wheel 5 and when she took charge of her father’s 
house, she it was who banished to the garret the old- 
fashioned sewing-machine, and the bicycles on which 
some of the older members of the family once used to 
ride. She tried to persuade her father to use a hot-air 
plough, and to give up the practice of keeping cows in 
an age when milk and butter were considered not only 
unnecessary, but injurious to human health. When 
she married Samuel Block, then a man of forty-five, 
she really thought she did so because he was a person 
of progressive ideas, but the truth was, she married 
him because he loved her, and because he did it in an 
honest, old-fashioned way. 

In her inner soul Sarah was just as old-fashioned as 
anybody— she had been born so, and she had never 
changed. Endeavor as she might to make herself 
believe that she was a woman of modern thought and 
feeling, her soul was truly in sympathy with the social 
37 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


fashions and customs in which sue had been brought 
up, and those to which she was trying to educate her- 
self were on the outside of her, never a part of her, 
but always the objects of her aspirations. These 
aspirations she believed to be principles. She tried 
to set her mind upon the unfolding revelations of the 
era, as young women in her grandfather’s day used to 
try to set their minds upon Browning. When Sarah 
told Mr. Clewe that she was going on the Dipsey be- 
cause she would not let her husband go by himself, she 
did so because she was ashamed to say that she was in 
such sympathy with the great scientific movements 
of the day that she thought it was her duty to asso- 
ciate herself with one of them ; but while she thought 
she was lying in the line of high principle, she was in 
fact expressing the truthful affection of her old-fash- 
ioned nature— a nature she was always endeavoring 
to keep out of sight, but which from its dark corner 
ruled her life. 

She had an old-fashioned temper, which delighted 
in censoriousness. The more interest she took in any- 
thing, the more alive was she to its defects. She tried 
to be a good member of her church, but she said sharp 
things of the congregation. 

No electrical illumination could brighten the soul 
of Mrs. Block. She moved about the little vessel with 
a clouded countenance. She was impressed with the 
feeling that something was wrong, even now at the 
beginning, although, of course, she could not be ex- 
pected to know what it was. 

At the bows, and in various places at the sides of 
the vessel, and even in the bottom, were large plates 
of heavy glass, through which the inmates could look 
38 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


out into the water, and there streamed forward into 
the quiet depths of the ocean a great path of light, 
proceeding from a powerful search-light in the bow. 
By this light any object in the water could be seen 
some time before reaching it; but to guard more 
thoroughly against the most dreaded obstacle they 
feared to meet— down-reaching masses of ice— a hy- 
draulic thermometer, mounted on a little submarine 
vessel connected with the Dipsey by wires, preceded 
her a long distance ahead. Impelled and guided by 
the batteries of the larger vessel, this little ther- 
mometer-boat would send back instant tidings of any 
changes in temperature in the water occasioned by 
the proximity of ice. To prevent sinking too deep, a 
heavy lead, on which were several electric buttons, 
hung far below the Dipsey , ready at all times, day or 
night, to give notice if she came too near the reefs 
and sands of the bottom of the Arctic Ocean. 

The steward had just announced that the first meal 
on board the Dipsey was ready for the officers’ mess, 
when Mrs. Block suddenly rushed into the cabin. 

“Look here, Sammy,” she exclaimed, “I want you, 
or somebody who knows more than you do, to tell me 
how the people on this vessel are goin’ to get air to 
breathe with. It has just struck me that when we 
have breathed up all the air that’s inside, we will 
simply suffocate, just as if we were drowned outside a 
boat instead of inside ; and, for my part, I can’t see any 
difference, except in one case we keep dry and in the 
other we are wet.” 

“More than that, madam,” said Mr. Gibbs, the 
master electrician, who, in fact, occupied the rank 
of first officer of the vessel, “if we are drowned out- 
39 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


side in the open water we shall be food for fishes, 
whereas if we suffocate inside the vessel we shall only 
be food for reflection, if anybody ever finds us.” 

“You did not come out expectin’ that, I hope?” 
said Mrs. Block. “I thought something would hap- 
pen when we started, but I never supposed we would 
run short of air.” 

“Don’t bother yourself about that, Sarah,” said 
Sammy. “We’ll have all the air we want. Of course 
we would not start without thinkin’ of that.” 

“I don’t know,” said Sarah. “It’s very seldom that 
men start off anywhere without forgettin’ somethin’.” 

“Let us take our seats, Mrs. Block,” said Mr. Gibbs, 
“and I will set your mind at rest on the air point. 
There are a great many machines and mechanical 
arrangements on board here which, of course, you 
don’t understand, but which I shall take great pleas- 
ure in explaining to you whenever you want to learn 
something about them. Among them are two great 
metal contrivances, outside the Dipsey and near her 
bows, which open into the water, and also communi- 
cate with the inside of her hull. These are called 
electric gills, and they separate air from the water 
around us in a manner somewhat resembling the way 
in which a fish’s gills act. They continually send in 
air enough to supply us not only with all we need for 
breathing, but with enough to raise us to the surface 
of the water whenever we choose to produce it in suffi- 
cient quantities.” 

“I am glad to hear it,” said Mrs. Block, “and I hope 
the machines will never get out of order. But I should 
think that sort of air, made fresh from the water, 
would be very damp. It’s very different from the air 
40 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


we are used to, which is warmed by the sun and 
properly aired.’ 7 

u Aired air seems funny to me,” remarked Sammy. 

There was fascination, not at all surprising, about 
the great glass lights in the Dipsey, and whenever a 
man was off duty he was pretty sure to be at one of 
these windows, if he could get there. At first Mrs. 
Block was afraid to look out of any of them. It made 
her blood creep, she said, to stare out into all that 
solemn water. For the first two days, when she could 
get no one to talk to her, she passed most of her time 
sitting in the cabin, holding in one of her hands a 
dust-brush, and in the other a farmer’s almanac. She 
did not use the brush, nor did she read the almanac, 
but they reminded her of home and the world which 
was real. 

But when she did make up her mind to look out of 
the windows, she became greatly interested, especially 
at the bow, where she could gaze out into the water 
illuminated by the long lane of light thrown out by 
the search-light. Here she continually imagined she 
saw things, and sometimes greatly startled the men on 
lookout by her exclamations. Once she thought she 
saw a floating corpse, but, fortunately, it was Sammy 
who was by her when she proclaimed her discovery, 
and he did not believe in any such nonsense, suggest- 
ing that it might have been some sort of a fish. After 
that the idea of fish filled the mind of Mrs. Block, and 
she set herself to work to search in an encyclopaedia 
which was on board for descriptions of fishes which 
inhabited the depths of the arctic seas. To meet a 
whale, she thought, would be very bad $ but then, a 
whale is clumsy and soft ; a swordfish was what she 
41 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


most dreaded. A swordfish running liis sword 
through one of the glass windows, and perhaps coming 
in himself, along with the water, sent a chill down her 
back every time she thought about it and talked 
about it. 

“You needn’t be afraid of swordfishes,” said Cap- 
tain Jim Hubbell. “They don’t fancy the cold water 
we are sailin’ in. And as to whales, don’t you know, 
madam, there ain’t no more of ’em ? ” 

“No more whales!” exclaimed Sarah. “I have 
heard about ’em all my life ! ” 

“Oh, you can read and hear about ’em, easy 
enough,” replied Captain Jim, “but you nor nobody 
else will ever see none of ’em ag’in— at least, in this 
part of the world. Sperm-whales began gittin’ scarce 
when I was a boy, and pretty soon there was nothin’ 
left but bow-head or right whales, that tried to keep 
out of the way of human bein’s by livin’ far up North. 
But when they came to shootin’ ’em with cannons 
which would carry three or four miles, the whale’s 
day was up, and he got scarcer and scarcer, until he 
faded out altogether. There was a British vessel, the 
BarJcrightj that killed two bow-head whales in 1935, 
north of Melville Island, but since that time there 
hasn’t been a whale seen in all the arctic waters. I 
have heard that said by sailors, and I have read about 
it. They have all been killed, and nothin’ left of ’em 
but the skeletons that’s in the museums.” 

Mrs. Block shuddered. “It would be terrible to 
meet a livin’ one, and yet it is an awful thought to 
think that they are all dead and gone,” said she. 


42 


CHAPTER VI 


VOICES FROM THE POLAR SEAS 

Although Sammy Block and his companions were 
not only far up among the mysteries of the region of 
everlasting ice, and were sunk out of sight, so that 
their vessel had become one of those mysteries, it was 
still perfectly possible for them to communicate, by 
means of the telegraphic wire which was continually 
unrolling astern, with people all over the world. But 
this communication was a matter which required 
great judgment and caution, and it had been a subject 
of very careful consideration by Roland Clewe. 

When he had returned to Cape Tariff, after parting 
with the JDipsey , he had received several messages 
from Sammy, which assured him that the submarine 
voyage was proceeding satisfactorily. But when he 
went on board the Go Lightly and started homeward, 
he would be able to hear nothing more from the sub- 
marine voyagers until he reached St. John’s, New- 
foundland— the first place at which his vessel would 
touch. Of course, constant communication with Sar- 
dis would be kept up, but this communication might 
be the source of great danger to the plans of Roland 
Clewe. Whatever messages of importance came from 
43 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


the depths of the arctic regions he wished to come 
only to him or to Mrs. Raleigh. He had contrived a 
telegraphic cipher, known only to Mrs. Raleigh, 
Sammy, and two officers of the Dipsey , and, to insure 
secrecy, Sammy had been strictly enjoined to send no 
information in any other way than in this cipher. 

For years there had been men, both in America and 
in Europe, who had been watching with jealous scru- 
tiny the inventions and researches of Roland Clewe, 
and he well understood that if they should discover 
his processes and plans before they were brought to 
successful completion, he must expect to be robbed of 
many of the results of his labors. The first news that 
came to him, on his recent return to America, had been 
the tale told by Sammy Block, of the man in the air 
who had been endeavoring to peer down into his lens- 
house, and he had heard of other attempts of this kind. 
Therefore it was that the telegraphic instrument on 
the Dipsey had been given into the sole charge of 
Samuel Block, who had become a very capable 
operator, and who could be relied upon to send no 
news over his wire which could give serviceable in- 
formation to the operators along the line from Cape 
Tariff to Sardis, New Jersey. 

But Clewe did not in the least desire that Margaret 
Raleigh should be kept waiting until he came back 
from the arctic regions for news from the expedition 
which she as well as himself had sent out into the 
unknown North. Consequently Samuel Block had 
been told that he might communicate with Mrs. 
Raleigh as soon and as often as he pleased, remember- 
ing always to be careful never to send any word 
which might reveal anything to the detriment of his 
44 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


employers. When a message should be received on 
board the Dipsey that Mr. Clewe was ready to com- 
municate with her, frequent reports were expected 
from the master electrician, but it would be Sammy 
who would unlock the cover which had been placed 
over the instrument. 

Before he retired to his bunk on the first night on 
board the Dipsey, Sammy thought it proper to send a 
message to Mrs. Raleigh. He had not telegraphed 
before, because he knew that Mr. Clewe would com- 
municate fully before he left Cape Tariff. 

Margaret Raleigh had gone to bed late, and had 
been lying for an hour or two unable to sleep, so busy 
was her mind with the wonderful things which were 
happening in the far-away polar regions— strange and 
awful things— in which she had such a direct and 
lively interest. She had heard, from Roland Clewe, 
of the successful beginning of the Dipsey’ s voyage, and 
before she had gone to her chamber she had received 
a last message from him on leaving Cape Tariff ; and 
now, as she lay there in her bed, her whole soul was 
occupied with thoughts of that little party of people 
— some of them so well known to her— all of them 
sent out upon this perilous and frightful expedition by 
her consent and assistance, and now left alone to work 
their way through the dread and silent waters that 
underlie the awful ice regions of the pole. She felt 
that so long as she had a mind she could not help 
thinking of them, and so long as she thought of them 
she could not sleep. 

Suddenly there was a ring at the door, which made 
her start and spring from her bed, and shortly a tele- 
graphic message was brought to her by a maid. It 
45 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


was from the depths of the Arctic Ocean, and read as 
follows : 

“ Getting on very well. No motion. Not cold. Slight 
rheumatism in Sarah’s shoulder. Wants to know which 
side of plasters you gave her goes next skin. 

“Samuel Block.” 

An hour afterwards there flashed farther northward 
than ever current from a battery had gone before an 
earnest, cordial, almost affectionate message from Mar- 
garet Raleigh to Sarah Block, and it concluded with 
the information that it was the rough side of the plas- 
ters which should go next to the skin. After that 
Mrs. Raleigh went to bed with a peaceful mind and 
slept soundly. 

Frequent communications, always of a friendly or 
domestic nature, passed between the polar sea and 
Sardis during the next few days. Mrs. Raleigh would 
have telegraphed a good deal more than she did had 
it not been for the great expense from Sardis to Cape 
Tariff, and Sarah Block was held in restraint, not by 
pecuniary considerations, but by Sammy’s sense of the 
fitness of things. He nearly always edited her mes- 
sages, even when he consented to send them. One 
communication he positively refused to transmit. She 
came to him in a great flurry. 

“Sammy,” said she, “I have just found out some- 
thing, and I can’t rest until I have told Mrs. Raleigh. 
I won’t mention it here, because it might frighten 
some people into fits and spasms. Sammy, do you 
know there are thirteen people on board this boat 1 ” 

“Sarah Block ! ” ejaculated her husband, “what in 
the name of common sense are you talkin’ about ? 

46 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


What earthly difference can it make whether there 
are thirteen people on this vessel or twelve ? And if 
it did make any difference, what are yon goin’ to do 
about it? Do you expect anybody to get out? ” 

“Of course I don’t / 7 replied Sarah, “although there 
are some of them that would not have come in if I had 
had my say about it. But as Mrs. Raleigh is one of the 
owners, and such a good friend to you and me, Sammy, 
it is our duty to let her know what dreadful bad luck 
we are carryin’ with us.” 

“Don’t you suppose she knows how many people are 
aboard ? ” said Sammy. 

“Of course she knows, but she don’t consider what 
it means, or we wouldn’t all have been here. It is 
her right to know, Sammy. Perhaps she might order 
us to go back to Cape Tariff and put somebody 
ashore.” 

In his heart Samuel Block believed that if this 
course were adopted he was pretty sure who would be 
put on shore if a vote were taken by officers and 
crew, but he was too wise to say anything upon this 
point, and contented himself with positively refusing 
to send southward any news of the evil omen. 

The next day Mrs. Block felt that she must speak 
upon the subject or perish, and she asked Mr. Gibbs 
what he thought of there being thirteen people on 
board. 

“Madam,” said he, “these signs lose all their powers 
above the seventieth parallel of latitude. In fact, 
none of them have ever been known to come true 
above sixty-eight degrees and forty minutes, and we 
are a good deal higher than that, you know.” 

Sarah made no answer, but she told her husband 
47 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


afterwards that she thought that Mr. Gibbs had his 
mind so full of electricity that it had no room for old- 
fashioned common sense. It did not do to sneer at 
signs and portents. Among the earliest things she 
remembered was a story which had been told her of 
her grandmother’s brother, who was the thirteenth 
passenger in an omnibus when he was a young man, 
and who died that very night, having slipped off the 
back step, where he was obliged to stand, and frac- 
tured his skull. 

At last there came a day when a message in cipher 
from Roland Clewe delivered itself on board the 
Dipsey, and from that moment a hitherto unknown 
sense of security seemed to pervade the minds of 
officers and crew. To be sure, there was no good 
reason for this, for if disaster should overtake them, 
or even threaten them, there was no submarine boat 
ready to send to their rescue, and, if there had been, 
it would be long, long before such aid could reach 
them j but still, they were comforted, encouraged, and 
cheered. Now, if anything happened, they could send 
news of it to the man in whom they all trusted, and 
through him to their homes, and whatever their far- 
away friends had to say to them could be said without 
reserve. 

There was nothing yet of definite scientific impor- 
tance to report, but the messages of the master elec- 
trician were frequent and long, regardless of expense, 
and, so far as her husband would permit her, Sarah 
Block informed Mrs. Raleigh of the discouragements 
and dangers which awaited this expedition. It must 
be said, however, that Mrs. Block never proposed to 
48 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


send back one word which should indicate that she 
was in favor of the abandonment of the expedition, or 
of her retirement from it should opportunity allow. 
She had set out for the north pole because Sammy 
was going there, and the longer she went “polin’” 
with him, the stronger became her curiosity to see the 
pole and to know what it looked like. 

The Dipsey was not expected to be, under any cir- 
cumstances, a swift vessel, and now, retarded by her 
outside attachments, she moved but slowly under the 
waters. The telegraphic wire which she laid as she 
proceeded was the thinnest and lightest submarine 
cable ever manufactured, but the mass of it was of 
great weight, and as it found its way to the bottom 
it much retarded the progress of the vessel, which 
moved more slowly than was absolutely necessary, 
for fear of breaking this connection with the living 
world. 

Onward, but a few knots an hour, the Dipsey moved 
like a fish in the midst of the sea. The projectors of 
the enterprise had a firm belief that there was a 
channel from Baffin Bay into an open polar sea 
which would be navigable if its entrance were not 
blocked up by ice, and on this belief were based all 
their hopes of success. So the explorers pressed 
steadily onward, always with an anxious lookout 
above them for fear of striking the overhanging ice, 
always with an anxious lookout below for fear of 
dangers which might loom up from the bottom, al- 
ways with an anxious lookout starboard for fear of 
running against the foundations of Greenland, always 
with an anxious lookout to port for fear of striking 
49 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


the groundwork of the unknown land to the west, and 
always keeping a lookout in every direction for what- 
ever revelation these unknown waters might choose to 
make to them. 

Captain Jim Hubbell had no sympathy with the 
methods of navigation practised on board the Dipsey. 
So long as he could not go out on deck and take his 
noon observations, he did not believe it would be 
possible for him to know exactly where his vessel was. 
But he accepted the situation, and objected to none of 
the methods of the scientific navigators. 

“It’s a mighty simple way of sailin’,” he said to 
Sammy. “As long as there’s water to sail in, you 
have just got to git on a line of longitude— it doesn’t 
matter what line, so long as there’s water ahead of 
you— and keep there ; and so long as you steer due 
north, always takin’ care not to switch off to the 
magnetic pole, of course you will keep there ; and as 
all lines of longitude come to the same point at last, 
and as that’s the point you are sailin’ for, of course, 
if you can keep on that line of longitude as long as it 
lasts, it follows that you are bound to git there. If 
you come to any place on this line of longitude where 
there’s not enough water to sail her, you have got to 
stop her, and then, if you can’t see any way of goin’ 
ahead on another line of longitude, you can put her 
about and go out of this on the same line of longitude 
that you came up into it on, and so you may expect 
to find a way clear. It’s mighty simple sailin’, — reg’lar 
spellin’ -book navigation,— but it ain’t the right thing.” 

“It seems that way, Cap’n Jim,” said Sammy, “and 
I expect there’s a long stretch of under-water business 
ahead of us yet. But still, we can’t tell. How do we 
50 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


know that we will not get up, some mornin’ soon, and 
look out of the upper skylight, and see nothin’ but 
water over us, and daylight beyond that? ” 

“When we do that, Sammy,” said Captain Jim, 
“then I’ll truly believe I’m on a v’yage ! ” 




51 


CHAPTER YII 


GOOD NEWS GOES FROM SARDIS 

When Roland Clewe, after a voyage from Cape Tariff 
which would have been tedious to him no matter how 
short it had been, arrived at Sardis, his mind was 
mainly occupied with the people he had left behind 
him engulfed in the arctic seas, but this important 
subject did not prevent him from also giving atten- 
tion to the other great object upon which his soul was 
bent. At St. John’s, and at various points on his 
journey from there, he had received messages from 
the Dipsey, so that he knew that so far all was well, 
and when he met Mrs. Raleigh she had much to tell 
him of what might have been called the domestic 
affairs of the little vessel. 

But while keeping himself in touch, as it were, 
with the polar regions, Roland Clewe longed to use 
the means he believed he possessed of peering into the 
subterranean mysteries of the earth beneath him. 
Work on the great machine by which he would gen- 
erate his Artesian ray had been going on very satis- 
factorily, and there was every reason to believe that 
he would soon be able to put it into operation. 

He had found Margaret Raleigh a different woman 
52 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


from what she had been when he left her. The ab- 
sence had been short, but the change in her was very 
perceptible. She was quieter, she was more intent. 
She had always taken a great interest in his un- 
dertakings, but now that interest not only seemed to 
be deepened, but it was clouded by a certain anxiety. 
She had been an ardent, cheerful, and hopeful co- 
worker with him, so far as she was able to do so, but 
now, although she was quite as ardent, the cheerful- 
ness had disappeared, and she did not allude to the 
hopefulness. 

But this did not surprise Clewe. He thought it the 
most natural thing in the world, for that polar expe- 
dition was enough to cloud the spirits of any woman 
who had an active part and share in it, and who was 
bound to feel that much of the responsibility of it 
rested upon her. At times this responsibility rested 
very heavily upon himself. But if thoughts of that 
little submerged party at the desolate end of the world 
came to him as he sat in his comfortable chair, and a 
cold dread shot through him, as it was apt to do at 
such times, he would hurriedly step to his telegraphic 
instrument, and when he had heard from Sammy Block 
that all was well with them, his spirits would rise 
again, and he would go on with his work with a soul 
cheered and encouraged. 

But good news from the North did not appear to 
cheer and encourage the soul of Mrs. Baleigh. She 
seemed anxious and troubled even after she had 
heard it. 

“Mr. Clewe, ” said she, when he had called upon her 
the next morning after his return, “suppose you were 
to hear bad news from the Dipsey , or were to hear 
53 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


nothing at all,— were to get no answer to your mes- 
sages,— what would you do?” 

His face grew troubled. 

“That is a terrible question/’ he said. “It is one I 
have often asked myself. But there is no satisfactory 
answer to it. Of course, as I have told myself and 
have told you, there seems no reason to expect a 
disaster. There are no storms in the quiet depths in 
which the Dipsey is sailing. Ice does not sink down 
from the surface, and even if a floating iceberg should 
turn over, as they sometimes do in the more open sea, 
the Dipsey will keep low enough to avoid such danger. 
In fact, I feel almost sure that if she should meet with 
any obstacle which would prevent her from keeping 
on her course to the pole, all she would have to do 
would be to turn around and come back. As to the 
possibility of receiving no messages, I should conclude 
in that case that the wire had broken, and should wait 
a few days before allowing myself to be seriously 
alarmed. We have provided against such an accident. 
The Dipsey is equipped as a cable-laying vessel, and 
if her broken wire is not at too great a depth, she 
could recover it ; but I have given orders that should 
such an accident occur, and they cannot reestablish 
communication, they must return.” 

“Where to?” asked Mrs. Raleigh. 

“To Cape Tariff, of course. The Dipsey cannot 
navigate the surface of the ocean for any considerable 
distance.” 

“And then?” she asked. 

“I would go as quickly as possible to St. John’s, 
where I have arranged that a vessel shall be ready for 
me, and I would meet the party at Cape Tariff, and 
54 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


there plan for a resumption of the enterprise, or bring 
them home. If they should not be able to get back to 
Cape Tariff, then all is blank before me. We must 
not think of it.” 

“But you would go up there all the same? ” she said. 

“Oh, yes, I would go there.” 

Mrs. Raleigh made no answer, but sat looking upon 
the floor. 

“But why should we trouble ourselves with these 
fears?” continued Clewe. “We have considered all 
probable dangers and have provided against them, and 
at this moment everything is going on admirably, 
and there is every reason why we should feel hopeful 
and encouraged. I am sorry to see you look so anx- 
ious and downcast.” 

“Mr. Clewe,” said she, “I have many anxieties ; that 
is natural, and I cannot help it : but there is only one 
fear which seriously affects me.” 

“And that makes you pale,” said Clewe. “Are you 
afraid that if I begin work with the Artesian ray I 
shall become so interested in it that I shall forget our 
friends up there in the North? There is no danger. 
No matter what I might be doing with the ray, I can 
disconnect the batteries in an instant, lock up the lens- 
house, and in the next half-hour start for St. John’s. 
Then I will go North, if there is anything needed to 
be done there which human beings can do.” 

She looked at him steadfastly. 

“That is what I am afraid of,” she said. 

Roland Clewe did not immediately speak. To him 
Margaret Raleigh was two persons. She was a woman 
of business, earnest, thoughtful, helpful, generous, and 
wise— a woman with whom he worked, consulted, 
55 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


planned, who made it possible for him to carry on the 
researches and enterprises to which he had devoted 
his life. But, more than this, she was another being. 
She was a woman he loved with a warm, passionate 
love, which grew day by day, and which a year ago 
had threatened to break down every barrier of pru- 
dence, and throw him upon his knees before her as a 
humiliated creature who had been pretending to love 
knowledge, philosophy, and science, but in reality had 
been loving beauty and riches. It was the fear of this 
catastrophe which had had a strong influence in tak- 
ing him to Europe. 

But now, by some magical influence,— an influence 
which he was not sure he understood,— that first 
woman, the woman of business, his partner, his co- 
worker, had disappeared, and there sat before him 
the woman he loved. He felt in his soul that if he 
tried to banish her it would be impossible ; by no 
word or act could he at this moment bring back the 
other. 

“Margaret Raleigh,” he said suddenly, “you have 
thrown me from my balance. You may not believe 
it, you may not be able to imagine the possibility of 
it, but a spirit, a fiery spirit which I have long kept 
bound up within me, has burst its bonds and has taken 
possession of me. It may be a devil or it may be an 
angel, but it holds me and rules me, and it was set 
loose by the words you have just spoken. It is my 
love for you, Margaret Raleigh ! ” He went on, speak- 
ing rapidly. “How, tell me,” said he. “I have often 
come to you for advice and help— give it to me now. 
In laboratory, workshop, office, with you and away 
56 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


from you, abroad and at home, by day and by night, 
always and everywhere, I have loved you, longed for 
a sight of you, for a word from you, even if it had 
been a word about a stick or a pin. And always and 
everywhere I have determined to be true to myself, 
true to you, true to every principle of honor and com- 
mon sense, and to say nothing to you of love until by 
some success I have achieved the right to do so. By 
words which made me fancy that you showed a per- 
sonal interest in me, you have banished all those reso- 
lutions ; you have— But I am getting madder and 
madder. Shall I leave this room? Shall I swear 
never to speak—” 

She looked up at him. The ashiness had gone out 
of her face. Her eyes were bright, and as she lifted 
them toward him a golden softness and mistiness came 
into the centre of each of them, as though he might 
look down through them into her soul. 

“If I were you,” said she, “I would stay here and 
say whatever else you have to say.” 

He told her what more he had to say, but it was 
with his arms around her and his eyes close to her own. 

“Do you know,” she said, a little afterwards, “that 
for years, while you have been longing to get to the 
pole, to see down into the earth, and to accomplish all 
the other wonderful things that you are working at in 
your shops, I, too, have been longing to do something 
— longing hundreds and hundreds of times when we 
were talking about batteries and lenses and of the 
enterprises we have had on hand.” 

“And what was that?” he asked. 


57 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


“It was to push back this lock of hair from your 
forehead. There, now; you don’t know how much 
better you look ! ” 

Before Clewe left the house it was decided that if, in 
any case, it should become necessary for him to start 
for the polar regions, these two were to be 'married 
with all possible promptness, and they were to go to 
the North together. 

That afternoon the happy couple met again, and 
composed a message to the arctic seas. It was not 
deemed necessary yet to announce to society what 
had happened, but they both felt that their friends 
who were so far away, so completely shut out from 
all relations with the world, and yet so intimately 
connected with them, should know that Margaret 
Raleigh and Roland Clewe were engaged to be 
married. 

Roland sent the message that evening from his 
office. He waited an unusually long time for a reply, 
but at last it came, from Sammy. The cipher, when 
translated, ran as follows : 

“Everybody as glad as they can be. Specially Sarah. 
Will send regular congratulations. Private message 
soon from me. We have got the devil on board.” 

Clewe was astonished. Samuel Block was such a 
quiet, steady person, so unused to extravagance or 
excitement, that this sensational message was entirely 
beyond his comprehension. He could fix no possible 
meaning to it, and he was glad that it did not come 
when he was in company with Margaret. It was too 
late to disturb her now, and he most earnestly hoped 
58 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


that an explanation would come before he saw her 
again. 

That night he dreamed that there was a great open- 
ing near the pole, which was the approach to the lower 
regions, and that the Dipsey had been boarded by a 
diabolical passenger, who had come to examine her 
papers and inquire into the health of her passengers 
and crew. 


59 


CHAPTER VIII 

THE DEVIL ON THE “DIPSEY” 

After a troubled night, Roland Clewe rose early. 
He had made up his mind that what Sammy had to 
communicate was something of a secret, otherwise it 
would have been telegraphed at once. For this 
reason he had not sent him a message asking for im- 
mediate and full particulars, but had waited. Now, 
however, he felt he could wait no longer. He must 
know something definite before he saw Margaret. 
Not to excite suspicion by telegraphing at untimely 
hours, he had waited until morning, and as the Dipsey 
was in about the same longitude as Sardis, and as they 
kept regular hours on board, without regard to the 
day and night of the arctic regions, he knew that he 
would not now be likely to rouse anybody from his 
slumbers by “calling up n the pole. 

Although the telephone had been brought to such 
wonderful perfection in these days, Roland Clewe 
had never thought of using it for purposes of commu- 
nication with the Dipsey. The necessary wire would 
have been too heavy, and his messages could not have 
been kept secret. In fact, this telegraphic communi- 
cation between Sardis and the submarine vessel was 


* 


60 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


almost as primitive as that in use in the latter part of 
the nineteenth century. 

But Clewe had scarcely entered the office when he 
was surprised by the sound of the instrument, and he 
soon found that Sammy was calling to him from the 
polar seas. He sat down instantly, and received this 
message : 

“ Could not send more last night. Gibbs came in. 
Did not want him to know until I had heard from you. 
That Pole, Rovinski, is on board. Never knew it until 
yesterday. Had shaved off his beard and had his head 
cropped. He let it grow, and I spotted him. There is 
no mistake. I know him, but he has not found it out. 
He is on board to get ahead of you some way or other— 
perhaps get up a mutiny and go to the pole himself. He 
is the wickedest-looking man I ever saw, and he scared 
me when I first recognized him. Will send news as long 
as I am on hand. Let me know what you think. I 
want to chuck him into the scuttle-box. 

“ Samuel Block.” 

“If that could be done,” said Clewe to himself, “it 
would be an end to a great many troubles.” 

The scuttle-box on the submarine vessel was a con- 
trivance for throwing things overboard. It consisted 
of a steel box about six feet long and two feet square 
at the ends, with a tightly fitting door at each ex- 
tremity. When this scuttle-box was used it was run 
down through a square opening in the bottom of the 
Dipsey , the upper door was opened, matter to be dis- 
posed of was thrown into it, the upper door was shut 
and the lower one opened, whereupon everything 
inside of it descended into the sea, and water filled the 
box. When this box was drawn up by means of its 

61 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


machinery, the water was forced out, so that when it 
was entirely inside the vessel it was empty, and then 
the lower door was closed. For some moments the 
idea suggested by Sammy was very attractive to 
Clewe, and he could not help thinking that the occa- 
sion might arise when it would be perfectly proper to 
carry it into execution. 

Now that he knew the import of Sammy’s extraor- 
dinary communication, he felt that it would not be 
right to withhold his knowledge from Margaret. Of 
course, it might frighten her very much, but this was 
an enterprise in which people should expect to be 
frightened. Full confidence and hearty assistance 
were what these two now expected from each other. 

“ What is it exactly that you fear ? ” she asked, when 
she had heard the news. 

“That is hard to say,” replied Roland. “This man 
Rovinski is a scientific jackal. He has ambitions of 
the very highest kind, and he seeks to gratify them 
by fraud and villainy. It is now nearly two years 
since I found out that he has been shadowing me, 
endeavoring to discover what I am doing and how I 
am doing it ; and the moment he does get a practical 
and working knowledge of anything, he will go on 
with the business on my lines as far as he can. Per- 
haps he may succeed, and, in any case, he will be 
almost certain to ruin my chances of success— that is, 
if I were not willing to buy him off. He would be 
pretty sure to try blackmail if he found he could not 
make good use of the knowledge he had stolen.” 

“The wretch ! ” cried Margaret. “Do you suppose 
he hopes to snatch from you the discovery of the 
pole ? ” 


62 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


“That seems obvious,” replied Roland, “and it’s 
what Sammy thinks. It is the greatest pity in the 
world he was not discovered before he got on the 

Dipsey .” 

“But what can you do? ” cried Margaret. 

“I cannot imagine,” he replied, “unless I recall the 
Dipsey to Cape Tariff, and go up there and have him 
apprehended.” 

“Couldn’t he be apprehended where he is?” she 
asked. “There are enough men on board to capture 
him and shut him up somewhere where he could do 
no harm.” 

“I have thought of that,” answered Roland, “but it 
would be a very difficult and delicate thing to do. 
The men we have on board the Dipsey are trusty fel- 
lows,— at least, I thought so when they were engaged, 
—but there is no knowing what mutinous poison this 
Pole may have infused into their minds. If one of 
their number should be handcuffed and shut up with- 
out good reason being given, they might naturally 
rebel, and it would be very hard to give satisfactory 
reasons for arresting Rovinski. Even Gibbs might 
object to such harshness upon grounds which might 
seem to him vague and insufficient. Sammy knows 
Rovinski, I know him, but the others do not, and it 
might be difficult to convince them that he is the 
black-hearted scoundrel we think him, so we must be 
very careful what we do.” 

“As to calling the Dipsey back,” said -Margaret, “I 
would not do it. I would take the risks.” 

“I think you are right,” said Clewe. “I have a 
feeling that if they come back to Cape Tariff they will 
not go out again. Some of the men may be discouraged 
63 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


already, and it would produce a bad impression upon 
all of them to turn back for some reason which they 
did not understand, or for a reason such as we could 
give them. I would not like to have to bring them 
back, now that they are getting on so well.” 

In the course of the morning there came from the 
officers, men, and passenger of the Dipsey a very cor- 
dial and pleasant message to Mr. Clewe and Mrs. 
Raleigh, congratulating them upon the happy event 
of which they had been informed. Sarah Block in- 
sisted on sending a supplementary message for herself, 
in which she was privately congratulatory to as great 
an extent as her husband would allow her to go, and 
which ended with a hope that, if they lived to be mar- 
ried, they would content themselves with doing their 
explorations on solid ground. She did not want to 
come back until she had seen the pole, but some of 
her ideas about that kind of travelling were getting 
to be a good deal more fixed than they had been. 

The advice which Roland Clewe gave to Samuel 
Block was simple enough and perhaps unnecessary, 
but there was nothing else for him to say. He urged 
that the strictest watch be kept on Rovinski, that he 
should never be allowed to go near the telegraph in- 
strument, and if, by insubordination or any bad con- 
duct, a pretext for his punishment should offer itself, 
he should be immediately shut up where he could not 
communicate with the men. It was very important 
to keep him as much as possible in ignorance of what 
was going on, and of what should be accomplished. 
That, after all, was the main point. If the pole should 
be discovered, Rovinski must have nothing to do with 
it. Sammy replied that everything should be reported 
64 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


as soon as it turned up, and that any orders received 
from Mr. Clewe should be carried out, so long as he 
was alive to help carry them. 

“Now,” said Roland to Margaret, “there’s nothing 
more that we can do in regard to that affair. As soon 
as there are any new developments we shall have to 
consider it again, but until then let us give up our 
whole souls to each other and the Artesian ray.” 

“It seems to me,” said she, “that if we could have 
discovered a good while ago some sort of ray by which 
we could see into each other’s souls, we should have 
gained a great many hours which are now lost.” 

“Not at all,” replied Clewe. “They are not lost. In 
our philosophy, nothing is lost. All the joys we have 
missed in days that are past shall be crowded into the 
days that are to come.” 


65 


CHAPTER IX 


THE ARTESIAN - RAT 

In less than a week after the engagement of Roland 
Clewe and Margaret Raleigh, work on the great ma- 
chine which was to generate the Artesian ray had so 
far progressed that it was possible to make some pre- 
liminary experiments with it. Although Clewe was 
sorry to think of the very undesirable companion 
which Samuel Block had carried with him into the 
polar regions, he could not but feel a certain satisfac- 
tion when he reflected that there was now no danger 
of Rovinski gaining any knowledge of the momentous 
operations which he had in hand in Sardis. He had re- 
ceived frequent telegrams from Sammy, but no trouble 
of any kind had yet arisen. It was true that the time for 
trouble, if there were to be any, had probably not yet 
arrived, but Clewe could not afford to disturb his 
mind with anticipations of disagreeable things which 
might happen. 

The masses of lenses, batteries, tubes, and coils which 
constituted the new instrument had been set up in 
the lens-house, and it was with this invention that 
Clewe had succeeded in producing that new form of 
light which would not only penetrate any material 
66 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


substance, but illuminate and render transparent 
everything through which it passed, and which 
would, it was hoped, extend itself into the earth to a 
depth only limited by the electric power used to 
generate it. 

Margaret was very anxious to be present at the first 
experiment, but Clewe was not willing that this 
should be. 

“It is almost certain,” he said, “that there will be 
failures at first, not caused perhaps by any radical 
defects in the apparatus, but by some minor fault in 
some part of it. This almost always happens in a new 
machine, and then there are uninteresting work and 
depressing waiting. As soon as I see that my inven- 
tion will act as I want it to act, I shall have you in 
the lens -house with me. We may not be able to doi 
very much at first, but when I really begin to do any- 
thing I want both of us to see it done.” 

There was no flooring in that part of the lens-house 
where the machine was set up, for Clewe wished his 
new light to operate directly upon the earth. At 
about eight feet above the ground was the opening 
through which the Artesian ray would pass perpendic- 
ularly downward whenever the lever should be moved 
which would establish the main electric current. 

When all was ready, Clewe sent every one, even 
Bryce, the master workman, from the room. If his 
invention should totally fail, he wanted no one but 
himself to witness that failure, but if it should suc- 
ceed, or even give promise of doing so, he would be 
glad to have the eyes of his trusted associates witness 
that success. When the doors were shut and locked, 
Clewe moved a lever, and a disk of light three feet in 
67 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


diameter immediately appeared upon the ground. 
It was a colorless light, hut it seemed to give a more 
vivid hue to everything it shone upon— such as the 
little stones, a piece of wood half embedded in the 
earth, grains of sand, and pieces of mortar. In a few 
seconds, however, these things all disappeared, and 
there revealed itself to the eyes of Clewe a perfectly 
smooth surface of brown earth. This continued for 
some little time, now and then a rounded or a flat- 
tened stone appearing in it, and then gradually fading 
away. 

As Clewe stared intently down upon the illuminated 
space, the brown earth seemed to melt and disappear, 
and he gazed upon a surface of fine sand, dark or yel- 
lowish, thickly interspersed with gravel-stones. This 
appearance changed, and a large rounded stone was 
seen almost in the centre of the glowing disk. The 
worn and smooth surface of the stone faded away, and 
he beheld what looked like a split section of a cobble- 
stone. Then it disappeared altogether, and there was 
another flat surface of gravel and sand. 

Between himself and the illuminated space on which 
he gazed— his breath quick and his eyes widely dis- 
tended— there seemed to be nothing at all. To all 
appearances he was looking into a cylindrical hole a 
few feet deep. Everything between the bottom of this 
hole and himself was invisible. The light had made 
intervening substances transparent, and had deprived 
them of color and outlines. It was as though he 
looked through air. 

Then his eyes fell upon the sides of this cylindrical 
opening, and these, illuminated, but not otherwise 
acted upon by the volume of Artesian rays, showed, 
68 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


in all their true colors and forms, everything which 
went to make up the sides of the bright cavity into 
which he looked. He saw the various strata of clay, 
sand, gravel, exactly as he would have seen them in 
a circular hole cut accurately and smoothly into the 
earth. Ho stone or lump protruded from the side of 
this apparent excavation, the inner surface of which 
was as smooth as if it had been cut down with a sharp 
instrument. 

Clewe was frightened. Was it possible that this 
could be an imaginary cavity into which he was look- 
ing 1 He drew back. He was about to put out one 
foot to feel if it were really solid ground upon which 
this light was pouring, but he refrained. He got a 
long stick, and with it touched the centre of the light. 
What he felt was hard and solid. The end of the stick 
seemed to melt, and this startled him. He pulled 
back the stick. He could go on no further by himself. 
He must have somebody in here with him. He must 
have the testimony of some other eyes. He needed the 
company of a man with a cool and steady brain. 

He ran to the door and called Bryce. When the 
master workman had entered, and the door had been 
locked behind him, he exclaimed : 

“How pale you are ! Does it work? ” 

“I think so,” said Clewe, “but perhaps I am crazy 
and only imagine it. You see that circular patch of 
light upon the ground there f I want you to go close 
to it and look down upon it, and tell me what you 
see.” 

Bryce stepped quickly to the illuminated space. 
He looked down at it. Then he approached nearer. 
Then he carefully placed his feet by its edge and leaned 
69 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


over further, gazing intently downward, and he ex- 
claimed : 

“Good heavens ! How did you make the hole? ” 

At that moment he heard a groan, and looking 
across the illuminated space, he saw Clewe tottering. 
In the next moment he was stretched upon the ground 
in a dead faint. 

When Bryce had hurried to the side of his employer 
and had thrown a pitcher of water over him, it was 
not long before Clewe revived. In answer to Bryce’s 
inquiries, he'; simply replied that he supposed he had 
been too much excited by the success of his work. 

“You see,” said he, “that was not a hole at all that 
you were looking into : it was the solid earth made 
transparent by the Artesian ray. The thing works 
perfectly. Please step to that lever and turn it off. 
I can stand no more at present.” 

Bryce moved the lever, and the light upon the 
ground disappeared. He approached the place where 
it had been. It was nothing but common earth. He 
put his foot upon it— he stamped. It was as solid 
as any other part of the State. 

“And yet, I have looked down into it,” he ejacu- 
lated, “at least half a dozen feet ! ” 

When Bryce turned and went back to Clewe, he, 
too, was pale. 

“I do not wonder you fainted,” said he. “I do not 
believe it was what you saw that upset you. It was 
what you expected to see— wasn’t that it? ” 

Clewe nodded in an indefinite way. “We won’t 
talk about it now,” said he. “I don’t want any more 
experiments to-day. W e will cover up the instrument 
and go.” 


70 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


When Roland Clewe reached his room, he sat down 
in an arm-chair to think. He had made a grand and 
wonderful success, hut it was not upon that that his 
mind was now fixed. It was upon the casual and 
accidental effect of the work of his invention, of which 
he had never dreamed. Bryce had made a great mis- 
take in thinking that it was not what Roland Clewe 
had seen, but what he had expected to see, which had 
caused him to drop insensible. It was what he had 
seen. 

When the master workman had approached the 
lighted space upon the ground, Clewe stood opposite 
to him, a little distance from the apparatus. As 
Bryce looked down, he leaned forward more and 
more, until the greater part of his body was directly 
over the lighted space. Looking at him, Clewe was 
startled, amazed, and horrified to find that all that por- 
tion of his person which projected itself into the limits 
of the light had entirely disappeared, and that he was 
gazing upon a section of a man’s trunk, brightly illu- 
minated, and displayed in all its internal colors and 
outlines. Such a sight was enough to take away the 
senses of any man, and he did not wonder that he had 
fainted. 

“Row,” said he to himself, “all the time that I was 
looking into that apparent hole, never thinking that 
in order to see down into it I was obliged to project a 
portion of myself into the line of the Artesian ray, 
that portion of me was transparent, invisible. If 
Bryce had come in ! and then” — as the thought came 
into his mind his heart stopped beating— “if Margaret 
had been there ! ” 

For an hour he sat in his chair, racking his brain. 

71 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


“She must see the working of the ray,” he said. “I 
must tell her of my success. She must see it as soon 
as possible. It is cruel to keep her waiting. But how 
shall I manage it? How shall I shield her from the 
slightest possibility of what happened to me ? Heav- 
ens ! ” he exclaimed, “if she had been there ! ” 

After a time he determined that before any further 
experiments should take place he would build a cir- 
cular screen, a little room, which should entirely sur- 
round the space on which the Artesian ray was 
operated. Only one person at a time should be al- 
lowed to enter this screened apartment, which should 
then be closed. It would make no difference if one 
should become invisible, provided there was no one 
else to know it. 

It was on the evening of the next day that Margaret 
beheld the action of the Artesian ray. She greatly 
objected, at first, to going inside of the screened space 
by herself, and urged Roland to accompany her. But 
this he stoutly refused to do, assuring her that it was 
essential for but one person at a time to view the 
action of the ray. She demurred a good deal, but at 
last consented to allow herself to be shut up within 
the screen. 

What Margaret saw was different from the gradual 
excavation which had revealed itself before the eyes 
of Roland. She looked immediately into a hole nearly 
ten feet deep. The action of the apparatus was such 
that the power of penetration gained by the ray dur- 
ing its operation at any time was retained, so that 
when the current was shut off the photic boring 
ceased, and recommenced, when the batteries were 
again put into action, at the point where it had left 
72 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


off. The moment Margaret looked down, she gave a 
little cry, and started back against the screen. She 
was afraid she would fall in. 

“Roland, 1 ” she exclaimed, “you don’t mean to say 
that this is not really an opening into the earth? ” 

He was near her on the other side of the screen, 
and he explained to her the action of the light. Over 
and over she asked him to come inside and tell her 
what it was she saw, but he always refused. 

“The bottom is beautifully smooth and gray ! ” she 
exclaimed. “What is that? ” 

“Sand,” said Roland. 

“And now it is white, like a piece of pottery,” she 
said. 

“That is white clay,” said he. 

“Don’t you want to take my place,” said she, “if 
you will not come with me ? ” 

“Ho,” said Roland. “Look down as long as you 
wish. I know pretty well what you will see for some 
time to come. Has there been any change ? ” 

“The bottom is still white,” she replied, “but it is 
glittering.” 

“That is white sand,” said he. “The Artesian well 
which supplies the works revealed to me long ago the 
character of the soil at this spot, so that for a hundred 
feet or more I know what we may expect to see.” 

She came out hurriedly. “When you begin to 
speak of wells,” she said, “I am frightened. If I 
should see water, I should lose my head.” She sat 
down and put her hand before her eyes. “My brain 
is dazzled,” she said. “I don’t feel strong enough to 
believe what I have seen.” 

Roland shut off the current and opened the screen. 

73 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


“Come here, Margaret,” he said. “This is the spot upon 
which the light was shining. I think it will do yon 
good to look at it. Tread upon it ; it will help to 
reassure you that the things about us are real.” 

Margaret was silent for a few moments, and then, 
approaching Roland, she took him by both hands. 
“You have succeeded,” said she. “You are the 
greatest inventor of this age ! ” 

“My dear Margaret,” he interrupted quickly, “do 
not let us talk in that way. We have only just begun 
to work. Above all things, do not let us get excited. 
If everything works properly, it will not be long 
before I can send the Artesian ray down into depths 
with which I am not acquainted,— how far I do not 
know,— but we must wait and see what is the utmost 
we can do. When we have reached that point, it will 
be in order to hoist our flags and blow our trumpets. 
I hope it will not be long before the light descends so 
deep that we shall be obliged to use a telescope.” 

“And will it not be possible, Roland,” Margaret 
said earnestly, “that we shall ever look down into 
the earth together f When the light gets beyond the 
depth to which people have dug and bored, I shall 
never want to stand there alone behind the screen 
and see what next shall show itself.” 

“That screen is an awkward affair,” said Roland. 
“Perhaps I may think of a method by which it can 
be done away with, and by which we can stand side 
by side and look down as far into the depths of the 
earth as our Artesian ray can be induced to bore.” 


74 


CHAPTEE X 


“lake shiver, 

Steadily tlie Dipsey worked her way northward, and 
as she moved on her course her progress became some- 
what slower than it had been at first. This decrease 
in speed was due partially to extreme caution on the 
part of Mr. Gibbs, the master electrician. 

The attenuated cable, which continually stretched 
itself out behind the little vessel, was of the most re- 
cent and improved pattern for deep-sea cables. The 
conducting-wires in the centre of it were scarcely 
thicker than hairs, while the wires forming the sur- 
rounding envelope, although they were so small as to 
make the whole cable not more than an eighth of an 
inch in diameter, were far stronger than the thick 
submarine cables which were used in the early days 
of ocean telegraphy. These outer wires were made 
of the Swedish toughened steel fibre, and in 1939, with 
one of them a little over a sixteenth of an inch in di- 
ameter, a freight-ship of eleven thousand tons had been 
towed through the Great Xew Jersey Canal, which 
had then just been opened, and which connected 
Philadelphia with the ocean. 

But notwithstanding his faith in the strength of the 
75 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


cable, Mr. Gibbs felt more and more, the farther he 
progressed from the habitable world, the importance 
of preserving it from accident. He had gone so far 
that it would be a grievous thing to be obliged to turn 
back. 

The Dipsey sailed at a much lower depth than when 
she had first started upon her submarine way. After 
they had become accustomed to the feeling of being 
surrounded by water, her inmates seemed to feel a 
greater sense of security when they were well down 
below all possible disturbing influence. When they 
looked forward in the line of the search-light, or 
through any of the windows in various parts of the 
vessel, they never saw anything but water— no fish, 
nothing floating. They were too far below the ice 
above them to see it, and too far from what might be 
on either side of them to catch a glimpse of it. The 
bottom was deep below them, and it was as though 
they were moving through an aqueous atmosphere. 

They were comfortable, and beginning to be accus- 
tomed to their surrounding circumstances. The air 
came in regularly and steadily through the electric 
gills, and when deteriorated air had collected in the 
expiration-chamber in the upper part of the vessel, it 
was forced out by a great piston, which sent it by a 
hundred little valves into the surrounding water. 
Thus the pure air came in and the refuse air went out 
just as if the little Dipsey had been healthfully breath- 
ing as it pushed its way through the depths. 

Mrs. Block was gaining flesh. The narrow accom- 
modations, the everlasting electric light, the sameness 
of food, and a total absence of incident had become 
quite natural to her, and she had ceased to depend 
76 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


upon the companionship of the dust-brush and the 
almanac to carry her mind back to what she con- 
sidered the real things of life. 

Sarah had something better now to take her mind 
back to Sardis and the people and things on dry land. 
The engagement and probably early marriage of Mr. 
Clewe and Mrs. Raleigh had made a great impression 
upon her, and there were days when she never thought 
of the pole, so busy was she in making plans based 
upon the future cQnnection of the life of herself and 
Sammy and that of Mr. and Mrs. Clewe. 

Sammy and his wife had very good quarters within 
the boundaries of the works, but Sarah had never been 
quite satisfied with them, and when the new household 
of Clewe should be set up, and all the new domestic 
arrangements should be made, she hoped for better 
things. Mr. Clewe’s little cottage would then be 
vacant, for, of course, he and his wife would not live in 
such a place as that, and she thought that she and 
Sammy should have it. Hour by hour and day by 
day she planned the furnishing, the fitting, and the 
management of this cottage. 

She was determined to have a servant— a woman 
thoroughly capable of doing general housework $ and 
then there were times when she believed that if 
Sammy should succeed in finding the pole his salary 
would be increased, and they might be able to afford 
two servants. Over and over again did she consider 
the question whether, in this latter case, these women 
should both be general-housework servants, or one of 
them a cook and the other a chambermaid and laun- 
dress. There was much to be considered on each side. 
In the latter case more efficient work could be ob- 
77 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


tained, but in the former, in case one of them should 
suddenly leave, or go away for a day out, the other 
could do all the work. It was very pleasant to Mrs. 
Block to sit in a comfortable arm-chair and gaze thus 
into the future. Sometimes she looked up into the 
water above, and sometimes out into the water ahead, 
but she could see nothing. But in the alluring ex- 
panse of her fancied future she could see anything 
which she chose to put there. 

Sammy, however, did not increase in flesh. In fact, 
he grew thinner. Nothing important in regard to 
the Pole Rovinski had occurred, but, of course, some- 
thing would occur ; otherwise why did the Pole come 
on board the Dipsey ? Endless conjectures as to what 
Rovinski would do when he did anything, and when 
he would begin to do it, kept the good Samuel awake 
during many hours when he should have been soundly 
sleeping. He had said nothing yet to Mr. Gibbs in 
regard to the matter. Every day he made a report to 
Roland Clewe about Rovinski, but Clewe’s instructions 
were that so long as the Pole behaved himself prop- 
erly there was no reason to trouble the minds of the 
party on board with fears of rascality on his part. 
They had enough to occupy their minds, without any 
disturbing influence of that sort. 

Clewe’s own opinion on the subject was that Ro- 
vinski could do nothing but act as a spy, and after- 
wards make dishonest use of the knowledge he should 
acquire. But the man had put himself into Clewe’s 
power, and he could not possibly get away from him 
until he should return to Cape Tariff, and even there 
it would be difficult. The proper and only thing to 
78 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


do was to keep him in custody as long as possible. 
When he should be brought back to a region of law 
and justice, it might be that the Pole could be pre- 
vented, for a time at least, from using the results of 
his knavish observations. 

There was another person on board whose mind 
was disturbed by Rovinski. This was Mr. Marcy, the 
assistant engineer, an active, energetic fellow, filled 
with ambition and love of adventure, and one of the 
most hopeful and cheerful persons on board. He had 
never heard of Rovinski, and did not know that there 
was anybody in the world who was trying to benefit 
himself by fraudulent knowledge of Mr. Clewe’s dis- 
coveries and inventions, but he hated the Pole on his 
own account. 

The man’s countenance was so villainous that it was 
enough of itself to arouse the dislike of a healthy- 
minded young fellow such as Marcy, but, moreover, 
the Pole had habits of sneaking about the vessel, and 
afterwards retiring to quiet corners, where he would 
scribble in a pocket note-book. Such conduct as this 
in a man whose position corresponded with that of a 
common seaman on an ordinary vessel seemed con- 
trary to discipline and good conduct, and he mentioned 
the matter to Mr. Gibbs. 

“I suppose the man is writing a letter to his wife,” 
said the latter. “You would not want to hinder him 
from doing that, would you?” 

And to this no good answer could be made. 

The Pole never took notes when Sammy was any- 
where where he could see him, and if Mr. Marcy had 
reported this conduct to the old man, it is likely that 
79 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


Rovinski would speedily have been deprived of pencils 
and paper, and his real character been made known 
to the officers. 

One day it was observed by those who looked out of 
the window in the upper deck that the water above 
them was clearer than they usually saw it, and when 
the electric lights in the room immediately under the 
window were turned out it was almost possible to dis- 
cern objects in the room. Instantly there was a great 
stir on board the Dipsey , and observations soon dis- 
closed the fact that there was nothing above the vessel 
but water and air. 

At first, like an electric flash, the thought ran 
through the vessel that they had reached the open 
sea which is supposed to surround the pole, but reflec- 
tion soon showed those who were cool enough to reflect 
that, if this were the case, this sea must be much larger 
than they had supposed, for they were still a long way 
from the pole. TJpon one thing, however, everybody 
was agreed : they must ascend without loss of time to 
the surface of the water above them. 

Up went the Dipsey , and it was not long before the 
great glass in the upper deck admitted pure light from 
the outer world. Then the vessel rose boldly and 
floated upon the surface of the open sea. 

The hatchways were thrown open, and in a few 
moments nearly everybody on board stood upon the 
upper deck, breathing the outer air and gazing about 
them in the pure sunlight. The deck was almost flat, 
and surrounded by a rail. The flooring was wet and 
somewhat slippery, but nobody thought of that ; they 
thought of nothing but the wonderful place in which 
they found themselves. 


80 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


They were in a small lake surrounded by lofty and 
precipitous icebergs. On every side these glittering 
crags rose high into the air ; nowhere was there a 
break or an opening. They seemed to be in a great 
icy prison. It might be supposed that it would be ex- 
hilarating to a party which had long been submerged 
beneath the sea to stand once more in the open air and 
in the light of day. But this was not the case. The 
air they breathed was sharp and cold, and cut into 
throats and lungs now accustomed to the softer air 
within their vessel. Scarcely any of them, hurrying 
out of the warm cabins, had thought of the necessity 
of heavy wraps, and the bitter cold of the outer 
air perceptibly chilled their blood. Involuntarily, 
even while they were staring about them, they 
hurried up and down the deck to keep themselves 
warm. 

The officers puzzled their brains over the peculiar 
formation of this ice-encompassed lake. It seemed as 
if a great ice-mountain had sunk down from the midst 
of its companions, and had left this awful hole. This, 
however, was impossible. "No law of nature would 
account for such a disappearance of an ice-mountain. 
Mr. Gibbs thought, under some peculiar circumstances, 
a mass of ice might have broken away and floated 
from its surroundings, and that afterwards, increased 
in size, it had floated back again, and, too large to re- 
enter the opening it had made, had closed up the 
frozen walls of this lonely lake, accessible only to 
those who should rise up into it from the sea. Sud- 
denly Mrs. Block stopped. 

“What is that? ” she cried, pointing to a spot in the 
icy wall which was nearest to the vessel. Instantly 
81 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


every eye was turned that way. They saw a very 
distinct irregular blotch, surrounded by almost trans- 
parent ice. 

Several glasses were now levelled upon this spot, 
and it was discovered to be the body of a polar bear, 
lying naturally upon its side, as if asleep, and entirely 
incased in ice. 

“It must have lain down to die, on the surface of 
the ice/ 7 said Mr. Gibbs, “and gradually the ice has 
formed above it, until it now rests in that vast funeral 
casket. 77 

“How long since he laid down there to die, Mr. 
Gibbs 1 77 asked Sarah, as she took the glass from her 
eye. “He looks as natural as if he was asleep. 77 

“I cannot say, 77 he answered. “It may have been 
hundreds, even thousands, of years ago. 77 

“Oh, horrible ! 77 said Sarah. “All that makes me 
shiver, and I am sure I don’t need anything to make 
me do that. I wish we would go down, Sammy. I 
would like to get out of this awful place, with those 
dreadful glitterin’ walls that nobody could get up or 
over, and things lyin’ frozen for a thousand years ; 
and, besides, it’s so cold ! 77 

It seemed as if Sarah’s words had struck the key- 
note to the feelings of the whole company. In the 
heart of every one' arose a strong desire to sink out of 
this cold, bleak, terrifying open air into the comfort- 
able, motherly arms of the encircling waters. For a 
few minutes Captain Jim Hubbell had experienced a 
sense of satisfaction at finding himself once more upon 
the deck of a vessel floating upon the open sea. He 
felt that he was in his element, and that the time had 
come for him to assume his proper position as a sailor ; 

82 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


but this feeling soon passed, and lie declared that his 
spine was like a long icicle. 

“Don’t you think we had better go down again?” 
said Sammy. “I think we have all seen enough of 
this, and it isn’t anything that any use can be made of.” 

“You are right,” said Mr. Gibbs. “Let everybody 
go below.” 

But it was not easy for everybody to obey this com- 
mand. The wet decks were now covered with a thin 
surface of ice, and those who had been standing still 
for a few moments found it difficult to release their 
shoes from the flooring of the deck, while several of 
the men slipped down as they made their way to the 
forward hatch. As for Sarah Block, she found it im- 
possible to move at all. Her shoes were of a peculiar 
kind, the soles being formed of thick felt, and these, 
having been soaked with water, had frozen firmly to 
the deck. She tried to make a step, and almost fell 
over. 

“Heavens and earth ! ” she screamed, “don’t let this 
boat go down and leave me standing outside ! ” 

Her husband and two men tried to release her, but 
they could not disengage her shoes from the deck. So 
Sammy was obliged to loosen her shoe-strings, and then 
he and another man lifted her out of her shoes and 
carried her to the hatchway, whence she very speedily 
hurried below. 

Everybody was now inside the vessel, the hatches 
were tightly closed, and the Dipsey began to sink. 
When she had descended to the comparatively tem- 
perate depths of the sea, and her people found them- 
selves in her warm and well-lighted compartments, 
there was a general disposition to go about and shake 
83 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


hands with one another. Some of them even sang little 
snatches of songs, so relieved were they to get down 
out of that horrible upper air. 

“Of course, I shall never see my shoes again,” said 
Mrs. Block. “And they were mighty comfortable 
ones, too. I suppose, when they have been down here 
awhile in this water, which must be almost luke- 
warmish compared to what it is on top, they will melt 
loose and float up ; and then, Sammy, suppose they 
lodge on some of that ice and get frozen for a thousand 
years ! Good gracious ! It sets me all of a creep to 
think of that happenin’ to my shoes, that I have been 
wearin’ every day ! Don’t you want a cup of tea ? ” 
“It’s a great pity,” thought Sammy to himself, “that 
it wasn’t that Pole that had his feet frozen to the deck. 
The rest of us might have been lucky enough not to 
have noticed him as the boat went down.” 

“We ought to get a name for that body of water 
up there,” said Mr. Gibbs, as he was writing out his 
report of the day’s adventures. “Shall we call it 
‘Lake Clewe’?” 

“Oh, don’t do that ! ” exclaimed Sammy Block. 
“Mr. Clewe’s too good a man to have his name 
tacked on to that hole. If you want to name it, why 
don’t you call it ‘Lake Shiver ’ ? ” 

“That is a good name,” answered Mr. Gibbs $ and 
so it was called. 


84 


CHAPTER XI 


THEY BELIEVE IT IS THE POLAR SEA 

With no intention of ascending again into any acci- 
dental holes in the ice above them, the voyagers on 
the Dipsey kept on their uneventful way, until, on 
the third day after their discovery of the lake, the 
electric bell attached to the heavy lead, which always 
hung suspended below the vessel, rang violently, indi- 
cating that it had touched the bottom. This sound 
startled everybody on board. In all their submarine 
experiences they had not yet sunk down low enough 
to be anywhere near the bottom of the sea. 

Of course, orders were given to ascend immediately, 
and at the same time a minor search-light was directed 
upward through the deck skylight. To the horror of 
the observers, ice could plainly be seen stretching 
above them like an irregular, gray sky. 

Here was a condition of things which had not been 
anticipated. The bottom below and the ice above 
were approaching each other. Of course, it might 
have been some promontory of the rocks under the 
sea against which their telltale lead had struck ; but 
there was an instrument on board for taking sound- 
ings by means of a lead suspended outside and a wire 
85 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


running through a waterproof hole in the bottom of 
the vessel, and when the Dipsey had risen a few fath- 
oms, and was progressing very slowly, this instru- 
ment was used at frequent intervals, and it was found 
that the electric lead had not touched a rock project- 
ing upward, and that the bottom was almost level. 

Mr. Gibbs’s instrument gave him an approximate 
idea of the vessel’s depth in the water, and the dial 
connected with the sounding apparatus told him hour 
by hour that the distance from the bottom, as the 
vessel kept forward on the same plane, was becoming 
less and less. Consequently he determined, so long 
as he was able to proceed, to keep the Dipsey as near 
as possible at a median distance between the ice and 
the bottom. 

This was an anxious time. So long as they had felt 
that they had plenty of sea-room the little party of 
adventurers had not yet recognized any danger which 
they thought sufficient to deter them from further 
progress j but if the ice and the bottom were coming 
together, what could they do? It was possible, by 
means of explosives they carried, to shatter the ice 
above them, but action of this kind had not been con- 
templated unless they should find themselves at the 
pole and still shut in by ice. They did not wish to 
get out into the open air at the point where they found 
themselves, and, moreover, it would not have been 
safe to explode their great bombs in such shallow 
water. A consultation was held, and it was agreed 
that the best thing to do was to diverge from the 
course they had steadily maintained, and try to find 
a deeper channel leading to the north. Accordingly, 
they steered eastward. 


86 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


It was not long before they found that they bad 
judged wisely. The bottom descended far out of the 
reach of their electric lead, and they were enabled to 
keep a safe distance below the overhanging ice. 

“I feel sure,” said Mr. Gibbs, “that we came near 
running against some outreaching portion of the main 
western continent, and now we have got to look out 
for the foundations of Greenland’s icy mountains.” 
He spoke cheerily, for he wished to encourage his com- 
panions, but there was a very anxious look upon his 
face when he was not speaking to any one. 

The next day every one was anxious, whether he 
spoke or was silent. The bottom was rising again, 
and the Dipsey was obliged to sail nearer and nearer 
to the ice above. Between two dangers, constricted 
and trammelled as they were, none of them could 
help feeling the terrors of their position, and if it had 
not been for the encouraging messages which continu- 
ally came to them from Sardis, they might not have 
been able to keep up brave hearts. 

After two days of most cautious progress, during 
which the water became steadily shallower and shal- 
lower, it was discovered that the ice above, which they 
were now obliged to approach much more closely than 
they had ever done before, was comparatively thin, 
and broken in many places. Great cracks could be 
seen in it here and there, and movements could be 
discerned indicating that it was a floe, or floating mass 
of ice. If that were the case, it was not impossible 
that they were now nearing the edge of the ice under 
which they had so long been sailing, and that beyond 
them was the open water. If they could reach that, 
and find it the unobstructed sea which was supposed 
87 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


to exist at this end of the earth’s axis, their expedi- 
tion was a success, for at that moment they were less 
than one hundred miles from the pole. 

Whether the voyagers on the Dipsey were more ex- 
cited when the probable condition of their situation 
became known to them, or whether Roland Clewe and 
Margaret Raleigh, in the office of the works at Sardis, 
were the more greatly moved when they received 
that day’s report from the arctic regions, it would be 
hard to say. If there should be room enough for the 
little submarine vessel to safely navigate beneath the 
ice which there was such good reason to believe was 
floating on the edge of the body of water they had 
come in search of, and on whose surface they might 
freely sail, what then was likely to hinder them from 
reaching the pole I The presence of ice in the vicinity 
of that extreme northern point was feared by no one 
concerned in the expedition, for it was believed that 
the rotary motion of the earth would have a tendency 
to drive it away from the pole by centrifugal force. 

The little thermometer-boat which during the sub- 
marine voyage of the Dipsey had constantly preceded 
her, to give warning of the sunken base of some great 
iceberg, was now drawn in close to the bow. There 
was so much ice near that its warnings were con- 
stant, and therefore unneeded. The electric lead-line 
was shortened to the length of a few fathoms, and even 
then it sometimes suddenly rang out its alarm. After 
a time the bottom of the sea became visible through 
the stout glass of a protected window near the bow, 
and a man was placed there to report what he could 
see below them. 

It had now become so light that in some parts of 
88 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


the vessel the electric lamps were turned out. Fis- 
sures of considerable size appeared in the ice above, 
and then, to the great excitement of every one, the 
vessel slowly moved under the surface of a wide space 
of open water. But the ice could be seen ahead, and 
she did not rise. The bottom came no nearer, and the 
Dipsey moved cautiously on. Nobody thought of 
eating. They did not talk much, but at every one of 
the outlooks there were eager faces. 

At last they saw nothing above them but floating 
fragments of ice. Still they kept on, until they were 
plainly moving below the surface of open water. Then 
Mr. Gibbs looked at Sammy. 

“I think it is time to rise,” said he, and Sammy 
passed the word that the Dipsey was going up into 
the upper air. 

When the little craft, so long submerged in the 
quiet depths of the arctic sea, had risen until she 
rested on the surface of the water, there was no gen- 
eral desire, as there had been when she emerged into 
Lake Shiver, to rush upon the upper deck. Instead 
of that, the occupants gathered together and looked at 
each other in a hesitating way, as if they were afraid 
to go out and see whether they were really in an open 
sea, or lying in some small ice-locked body of water. 

Mr. Gibbs was very pale. 

“My friends,” said he, “we are going on deck to 
find out whether or not we have reached the open 
polar sea, but we must not be excited, and we must 
not jump to hurried conclusions. We may have found 
what we are in search of, and we may not have found 
it yet. But we will go up and look out upon the polar 
world as far as we can see it, and we shall not decide 
89 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


upon this thing or that until we have thoroughly 
studied the whole situation. The engines are stopped, 
and every one may go up, but I advise you all to put 
on your warmest clothes. We should remember our 
experience at Lake Shiver. 7 ’ 

“It wouldn’t be a bad idea,” said Sammy Block, “to 
throw out a lot of tarpaulins to stand on, so that none 
of us will get frozen to the wet deck, as happened 
before.” 

When the hatch was opened, a man with a black 
beard pushed himself forward toward the companion- 
way. 

“Keep back here, sir,” said Mr. Marcy, clapping 
his hand upon the man’s shoulder. 

“I want to be ready to spread the tarpaulins, sir,” 
said he, with a wriggling motion, as if he would free 
himself. 

“You want to be the first to see the polar sea— that 
is my opinion,” said Mr. Marcy. “But you keep back 
there where you belong.” And with that he gave the 
eager Bovinski a staggering push to the rear. 

Five minutes afterwards Margaret Kaleigh and Bo- 
land Clewe, sitting close together by the telegraph 
instrument in the works at Sardis, received the fol- 
lowing message : 

“We have risen to the surface of what we believe to 
be the open polar sea. Everybody is on deck but me. 
It is very cold, and a wind is blowing. Off to our left 
there are high mountains, stretching westward as far 
as we can see. They are all snow and ice, but they 
look blue and green and beautiful. From these moun- 
tains there comes this way a long cape, with a little 
mountain at the end of it. Mr. Gibbs says this moun- 
90 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 

tain, which is about twenty miles away, must he just 
about between us and the pole, but it does not cut us 
off. Far out to the right, as far as we can see, there is 
open water shining in the sun, so that we can sail 
around the cape. On the right and behind us, south- 
ward, are everlasting plains of snow and ice, which we 
have just come from under. They are so white that it 
dazzles our eyes to look at them. In some places they 
are smooth, and in some places they are tumbled up. 
On the very edge of the sky, in that direction, there 
are more mountains. There are no animals or people 
anywhere. It is very cold, even inside the vessel. My 
fingers are stiff. Now that we are out on the water, in 
regular shipshape, Captain Jim Hubbell has taken com- 
mand. We are going to cruise northward as soon as we 
can get things regulated for outside sailing. 

“Samuel Block.” 


91 


CHAPTER XII 


CAPTAIN HUBBELL TAKES COMMAND 

It was a high-spirited and joyous party that the Dipsey 
now carried. Hot one of them doubted that they had 
emerged from under the ice into the polar sea. To 
the northeast they could see its waves shining and 
glistening all the way to the horizon, and they believed 
that beyond the cape in front of them these waters 
shone and glistened to the very north. They breathed 
the polar air, which, as they became used to it, was 
exhilarating and enlivening, and they basked in the 
sunshine, which, although it did not warm their bodies 
very much, cheered and brightened their souls. But 
what made them happier than anything else was the 
thought that they would soon start direct for the pole, 
on top of the water, and with nothing in the way. 

When Captain Jim Hubbell took command of the 
Dipsey the state of affairs on that vessel underwent a 
great change. He was sharp, exact, and severe ; he 
appreciated the dignity of his position, and he wished 
to let everybody see that he did so. The men on 
board who had previously been workmen now became 
sailors— at least, in the eyes of Captain Hubbell. He 
did not know much about the work that they had been 
92 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


in the habit of doing, but he intended to teach them 
the duties of sailors just as soon as he could find any 
such duties for them to perform. He walked about 
the deck with an important air, and looked for some- 
thing about which he might give orders. There were 
no masts or spars or shrouds or sheets, but there were 
tarpaulins on the deck, and these were soon arranged 
in seaman-like fashion. A compass was rigged up on 
deck, and Captain Hubbell put himself into commu- 
nication with the electric steersman. 

It was morning when the Dipsey emerged from the 
sea, although day and night were equally bright at 
that season, and at twelve o’clock Captain Hubbell 
took an observation, assisted by Sammy. The result 
was as follows : longitude, 69° 30' ; latitude, 88° 42'. 

“It strikes me,” said Captain James Hubbell, “that 
that latitude goes over anything ever set down by any 
skipper, ancient or modern.” 

“I should say so,” answered Sammy. “But that 
record won’t be anything compared to what we are 
goin’ to set down.” 

Work went on very rapidly, in order to get the 
Dipsey into regular nautical condition, and although it 
was out of his line, Captain Hubbell made it a point 
to direct as much of it as he could. The electric gills 
were packed as close to the side of the vessel as possi- 
ble, and the various contrivances for heating and 
ventilation when sailing in the open air were put into 
working order. At four o’clock in the afternoon our 
party started to round the icy promontory ahead of 
them, encouraged by a most hearty and soul-inspiring 
message from the hills of Hew Jersey. 

“It’s all very fine,” said Sarah Block to her hus- 
93 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


band, “for everybody on board to be talkin’ about 
wliat a splendid thing it is to be sailin’ on the surface 
of the sea, in the bright and beautiful air, but I must 
say that I like a ship to keep quiet when I am on 
board of her. I had a pretty bad time when I was 
cornin’ up on the Go Lightly , but she was big and didn’t 
wabble like this little thing. We went along beauti- 
fully when we were under the water, with the floor 
just as level as if we were at home in a house, but now 
I am not feelin’ anything like as well as I have been. 
For my part, I think it would be a great deal better 
to sink down again, and go the rest of the way under 
the water. I am sure we found it very comfortable, 
and a great deal warmer.” 

Sammy laughed. 

“Oh, that would not do at all,” he said. “You can’t 
expect the people on board this vessel to be willin’ to 
scoop along under the water when they have got a 
chance of sailin’ like Christians in the open air. It’s 
the sudden change that troubles you, Sarah. You’ll 
soon get over it.” 

But Sarah was not satisfied. The Dipsey rolled a 
good deal, and the good woman was frequently obliged 
to stop and steady herself when crossing the little 
cabin. 

“I feel,” said she, “as if I had had a Christmas din- 
ner yesterday, and somebody else had made the pies.” 

The dissatisfied condition of Mrs. Block had a cheer- 
ing influence upon Captain Hubbell when he heard 
of it. 

“By George ! ” said he, “this seems like good old 
times. When I was young, and there was women on 
board, they all got a little seasick ; but nowadays, 
94 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


with these ball-and-socket ships, you never hear of 
that sort of thing. A seasick woman is the most natu- 
ral thing I have struck yet on this cruise.” 

Mrs. Block’s uneasiness, however, did not last very 
long. A few electric capsules of half an alterative 
volt each soon relieved her. But her mind was still 
out of order ; she was not satisfied. She had accus- 
tomed herself to submerged conditions, and ordinary 
voyaging was very different. 

“It wouldn’t surprise me,” she said, “if we should 
find that there wasn’t any pole. That’s about the way 
these things generally turn out.” 

In a few hours the Dipsey had rounded the cape, 
keeping well offshore. In front was a clear sweep of 
unobstructed water. W ith their telescopes they could 
see nothing on the horizon which indicated the pres- 
ence of land. If the sea should stretch out before 
them, as they hoped and expected, a sail of about 
seventy miles ought to bring them to the pole. The 
Dipsey did not go at full speed ; there was no hurry, 
and as he was in absolutely unknown waters, Captain 
Hubbell wished to take no risks of sunken reefs or 
barely submerged islands. Soundings were frequent, 
and they found that the polar sea— at least, that part 
over which they were sailing— was a comparatively 
shallow body of water. 

Before they left Sardis, preparations had been made 
for an appropriate and permanent designation of the 
exact position of the northern end of the earth’s axis. 
If this should be discovered to be on solid land, there 
was a great iron standard, or column, on board, in de- 
tached parts, with all appliances for setting it up firmly 
in the rocks or earth or ice ; but if the end of the said 
95 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


axis should be found to be covered by water of not 
too great depth, a buoy had been provided which 
should be anchored upon the polar point. 

This buoy was a large, hollow, aluminium globe, from 
which a tall steel flag-post projected upward to a con- 
siderable height, bearing a light weather-vane, which, 
when the buoy should be in its intended position, 
would always point southward, no matter which way 
the wind might blow. This great buoy contained 
various appropriate articles, which had been hermet- 
ically sealed up in it before it left Sardis, where it 
was manufactured. All the documents, books, coins, 
and other articles which are usually placed in the 
corner-stones of important buildings were put in this, 
together with the names of the persons who had gone 
on this perilous expedition and those who had been 
its projectors and promoters. More than this, there 
was an appropriate inscription deeply cut into the 
metal on the upper part of the buoy, with a space left 
for the date of the discovery, should it ever take place. 

But the mere ceremony of anchoring a buoy at the 
exact position of the pole was not enough to satisfy 
the conscientious ambition of Mr. Gibbs. He had 
come upon this perilous voyage with the earnest in- 
tention of doing his duty in all respects, while en- 
deavoring to make the great discovery of the age ; 
and if that discovery should be made, he believed 
that his country should share in the glory and in the 
material advantage, whatever that might be, of the 
achievement. Consequently it was his opinion that 
if the pole should be discovered, the discoverers should 
take possession of it in the name of their country. 
Every one on board— except Sarah Block, who had 
96 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


something to say about the old proverb concerning 
the counting of chickens before they are hatched— 
thought this a good idea, and when the plan was 
submitted to Mr. Clewe and Mrs. Raleigh, they 
heartily approved. 

Preparations were now made to take possession of 
the pole if they should reach it on the water. On the 
after part of the deck a ring about three feet in diam- 
eter was marked, and it was arranged that when 
they had ascertained, by the most accurate observa- 
tions and calculations, the exact position of the pole, 
they would so guide their vessel that this ring should 
be, as nearly as possible, directly over it. Then one of 
the party should step inside of the ring and take 
possession of the pole. After this the buoy would be 
anchored, and their intended scientific observations 
and explorations would proceed. 

It was supposed, both on the Dipsey and at Sardis, 
that Mr. Gibbs would assume the honor of this act of 
taking possession, but that gentleman declined to do 
so. He considered that he would no more discover 
the pole, if they should reach it, than would his com- 
panions, and he also believed that, from a broad point 
of view, Mr. Roland Clewe was the real discoverer. 
Consequently he considered that the direct represen- 
tative of the interests of Mr. Clewe should take posses- 
sion, and it was decided that Samuel Block should add 
the north pole to the territory of his native land. 

When this had been settled, a very great change 
came over the mind of Sarah Block. That her hus- 
band should be the man to do this great thing filled 
her with pride and alert enthusiasm. 

“ Sammy,” she exclaimed, “when you are doin’ that, 
97 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


yon will be the greatest man in this world, and you 
will stand at the top of everything .’ 7 

“ Suppose there should be a feller standin’ on the 
south pole/’ said Sammy, “ wouldn’t he have the same 
right to say that he was on top of everything ? ” 

“No,” said Sarah, sharply. “The way I look at it, 
the north pole is above and the south pole is below. 
But there ain’t any other feller down there, so we 
needn’t talk about it. And now, Sammy, if you are 
goin’ to take possession of the pole, you ought to put 
on your best clothes. For one thing, you should wear 
a pair of those new red flannel socks that you haven’t 
had on yet; it will be a good way to christen ’em. 
Everything on you ought to be perfectly fresh and 
clean, and just as nice as you’ve got. This will be 
the first time that anybody ever took possession of a 
pole, and you ought to look your very best. I would 
ask you to shave, because you would look better that 
way, but I suppose if you took off your beard you 
would take cold in your jaws. And I want you to 
stand up straight, and talk as long about it as you can. 
You are too much given to cuttin’ off ceremonies 
mighty short, as I remember was the case when you 
were statin’ your ’pinions about our weddin’. But I 
had my way then, and I want to have it now. You 
are goin’ to be a big man, Sammy, and your name will 
go all over the world, so you must screw yourself up 
to as much eminence as you think you can stand.” 

Sammy laughed. “Well, I will do what I can,” said 
he,— “that is, providin’ our chickens are hatched.” 

“Oh, they’ll come out all right,” said Sarah. “I 
haven’t the least doubt of it, now that you are to be 
the chief figure in the hatchin’.” 

98 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


Shortly after the ordinary hour for rising, an order 
was issued by Captain Hubbell, and enforced by Sam- 
uel Block, that no one should be allowed to come on 
deck who had not eaten breakfast. There were those 
on board that vessel who would have stayed on deck 
during all the hours which should have been devoted 
to sleeping, had it not been so cold. There would 
probably be nothing to see when they reached the 
pole, but they wanted to be on hand, that they might 
see for themselves that there was nothing to see. 


99 


CHAPTER XIII 


LONGITUDE EVERYTHING 

The sun was as high in the polar heavens as it ever 
rises in that part of the world. Captain Hubbell 
stood on the deck of the Dipsey with his quadrant in 
hand to take an observation. The engine had been 
stopped, and nearly everybody on the vessel now sur- 
rounded him. 

“ Longitude everything,” said Captain James Hub- 
bell, “ latitude ninety, which is as near as I can make 
it out.” 

“My friends,” said Mr. Gibbs, looking about him, 
“we have found the pole.” 

And at these words every head was uncovered. 

For some moments no one spoke, but there was a 
look upon the faces of most of the party which ex- 
pressed a feeling which was voiced by Sarah Block. 

“And yet,” said she, speaking in a low tone, “there’s 
nothing to see, after all ! ” 

Captain Hubbell’s observations and calculations, 
although accurate enough for all ordinary nautical 
purposes, were not sufficiently precise to satisfy the 
demands of the present occasion, and Mr. Gibbs and 
100 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


the electricians began a series of experiments to deter- 
mine the exact position of the true pole. 

The vessel was now started, steering this way and 
that ; sometimes backed, and then sent forward again. 
After about an hour of this zizgag work Mr. Gibbs 
ordered the engine stopped. 

“Now,” said he, “the ring on the deck is exactly 
over the pole, and we may prepare to take possession.” 

At these words Samuel Block disappeared below, 
followed by his wife. 

“That was an odd expression of yours, Captain Hub- 
bell,” said Mr. Gibbs, “when you said we had reached 
longitude everything. It is correct, of course, but it 
had not struck me in that light.” 

“Of course it is correct,” said Captain Hubbell. 
“The end of every line of longitude is right here in a 
bunch. If you were a bird, you could choose one of 
’em and fly down along it to Washington or Greenwich 
or any other point you pleased. Longitude every- 
thing is what it is. We’ve got the whole of ’em right 
under us.” 

Now Samuel Block came on deck, where everybody 
else on board soon gathered. With a furled flag in 
his hand, dressed in his best and cleanest clothes, and 
with a large fur cloak thrown over his shoulders, Mr. 
Block advanced toward the ring on the deck, near 
the compass. 

But he was yet several yards from this point when 
a black figure, crouching close to the deck, issued from 
among the men, a little in the rear of the party, and 
made a dash toward the ring. It was the Pole Ro- 
vinski, who had been standing, quivering with excite- 
ment, waiting for this supreme moment. But almost 
101 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


at the same instant there sprang from the side of Mr. 
Gibbs another figure, with a face livid with agitation. 
This was Mr. Marcy, who had noticed the foreigner’s 
excitement and had been watching him. Like a stone 
from a catapult, Mr. Marcy rushed toward Kovinski, 
taking a course diagonal to that of the latter, and, 
striking him with tremendous force just before he 
reached the ring, he threw him against the rail with 
such violence that the momentum given to his head 
and body carried them completely over it, and, his 
legs following, the man went headlong into the sea. 

Instantly there was a shout of horror. Sarah Block 
screamed violently, and her husband exclaimed : “That 
infernal Pole ! He has gone down to the pole, and I 
hope he may stay there ! ” 

“What does all this mean, Mr. Marcy? ” roared Cap- 
tain Hubbell. “And why did you throw him over- 
board? ” 

“Never mind now,” cried Sammy, his voice rising 
above the confusion. “I will tell you all about it. I 
see what he was up to. He wanted to take possession 
of the pole in his own beastly name, most likely.” 

“I don’t understand a word of all this,” exclaimed 
Mr. Gibbs. “But there is the man— he has risen to 
the surface.” 

“Shall we let him sink,” cried Sammy, “or haul him 
aboard ? ” 

“Let the man sink ! ” yelled Captain Hubbell. 
“What do you mean, sir?” 

“Well, I suppose it wouldn’t do,” said Sammy, “and 
we must get him aboard.” 

Captain Hubbell roared out orders to throw out life- 
preservers and lower a boat ; but remembering that 
102 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


he was not on board a vessel of the olden times, he 
changed the order and commanded that a patent boat- 
hook be used upon the man in the water. 

The end of this boat-hook, which could be shot out 
like a fishing-rod, was hooked into Rovinski’s clothes, 
and he was pulled to the vessel. Then a rope was 
lowered, and he was hauled on board, shivering and 
shaking. 

“Take him below and put him in irons,” cried 
Sammy. 

“Mr. Block,” said Captain Hubbell, “I want you to 
understand that I am skipper of this vessel, and that 
I am to give orders. I don’t know anything about 
this man, but do you want him put in irons ? ” 

“I do,” said Sammy, “for the present.” 

“Take that man below and put him in irons!” 
roared Captain Hubbell. 

“And give him some dry clothes,” added Sarah 
Block. 

When the confusion consequent upon the incident 
had subsided, there was a general desire not to delay 
for a moment the actual act of taking legal possession 
of the pole they had discovered. 

Sammy now advanced, his fur cap in one hand and 
his flag in the other, and took his position in the 
centre of the circle. For a few moments he did not 
speak, but turned slowly around, as if desirous of 
availing himself of the hitherto unknown privilege of 
looking southward in every direction. 

“I’m glad he remembers what I told him,” said 
Sarah. “He’s making it last as long as he can.” 

“As the representative of Boland Clewe, Esq.,” said 
Samuel, deliberately and distinctly, “I take posses- 
103 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


sion of the north pole of this earth, in the name of 
United North America.” With these words he un- 
furled his flag, with its broad red and white stripes, 
and its seven great stars in the field of blue,* and stuck 
the sharp end of the flagstaff into the deck in the 
centre of the circle. 

“Now,” said he to his companions, “this pole is 
ours, and if anybody ever comes into this sea from 
Russia, or Iceland, or any other place, they will find 
the north pole has been preempted.” At this three 
hearty cheers were given by the assembled company, 
who thereupon put on their hats. 

The rest of that day and part of the next were spent 
in taking soundings, and very curious and surprising 
results were obtained. The electric lead, which rang 
the instant it touched bottom, showed that the sea 
immediately over the pole was comparatively shallow, 
while in every direction from this point the depth 
increased rapidly. Many interesting experiments 
were made, which determined the character of the 
bottom and the varied deposits thereupon, but the 
most important result of the work of Mr. Gibbs and 
his associates was the discovery of the formation of the 
extreme northern portion of the earth. The rock-bed 
of the sea was found to be of the shape of a flattened 
cone, regularly sloping off from the polar point. 

This peculiar form of the solid portion of the earth 
at the pole was occasioned, Mr. Gibbs believed, by the 
rotary motion of the bottom of the sea, which moved 

* It must be understood that at this time the seven great countries of 
North America— Greenland, Norland (formerly British America, British 
Columbia, and Alaska), Canada, the United States, Mexico, Central Amer- 
ica, and the West Indies— were united under one confederated government, 
and had one flag, a modification of the banner of the dominant nation. 

104 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


much more rapidly than the water above it, thus grad- 
ually wearing itself away, and giving to our earth 
that depression at the poles which has been so long 
known to geographers. 

Day after day the experiments went on. Mr. Gibbs 
and his associates were extremely interested in what 
they were doing, but some of the rest of the party 
began to get a little tired of the monotony. There 
was absolutely nothing to see except water and sky, 
and although the temperature was frequently some 
degrees above freezing, and became sometimes quite 
pleasant as they gradually grew accustomed to the 
outer arctic atmosphere, those who had no particular 
occupation to divert their minds made frequent com- 
plaints of the cold. There were occasional snow- 
storms, but these did not last long, and as a rule the 
skies were clear. 

“But think, Sarah / 7 said Samuel Block, in answer 
to some of her complaints, “what it would be if this 
were winter, and, instead of being light all the time, 
it was dark, with the mercury 7 way down at the bottom 
of the thermometer ! 77 

“I don’t intend to think of it at all , 77 replied Sarah, 
sharply. “Do you suppose I am goin 7 to consent to 
stay here until the everlastin 7 night comes on? If 
that happened, I would simply stretch myself out and 
die. It’s bad enough as it is, but when I look out on 
the sun, and think that it is the same sun that is 
shinin 7 on Sardis, and on the house which I hope we 
are goin 7 to have when we get back, I feel as if there 
was somethin 7 up here besides you, Sammy, that I 7 m 
accustomed to. If it was not for you and the sun, I 
could not get along at all ; but if the sun’s gone, I 
105 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


don’t think you will be enough. I wish they would 
plant that corner-stone buoy and let us be off.” 

But by far the most dissatisfied person on board 
was the Pole Bovinski. He was chained to the floor 
in the hold, and could see nothing, nor could he find 
out anything. Sammy had explained his character 
and probable intentions to Captain Hubbell, who had 
thereupon delivered to Mr. Block a very severe lec- 
ture for not telling him before. 

“If I’ve got a scoundrel on board I want to know 
it, and I hope this sort of thing won’t happen again, 
Mr. Block.” 

“I don’t see how it can,” answered Sammy, “and I 
must admit I ought to have told you as soon as you 
took command. But people don’t always do all they 
ought to do, and as for tellin’ Mr. Gibbs, I would not 
do that, for his mind is rigged on a hair-spring balance, 
anyway— it wouldn’t do to upset him.” 

“And what are we goin’ to do with the feller?” 
said the captain. “How that I know what this Pole 
is, I wish I had let him go down to the other pole and 
stay there.” 

“I thought so at first,” said Sammy, “but I’m glad 
he didn’t. I’d hate to think of our glorious pole with 
that thing floppin’ on it.” 

At last all was ready to anchor the great buoy, and 
preparations were in progress for this important 
event, when everybody was startled by a shout from 
Mr. Marcy. 

“Hello ! ” he cried. “What’s that? A sail? ” 

“Where away?” shouted the captain. 

“To the south,” replied Mr. Marcy. And instantly 
106 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


everybody was looking in opposite directions. But 
Mr. Marcy’s outstretched arm soon indicated to all the 
position of the cause of his outcry. It was a black 
spot clearly visible upon the surface of the sea, and 
apparently about two miles away. Quickly Captain 
Hubbell had his glass directed upon it, and the next 
moment he gave a loud cry. 

“It’s a whale ! ” he shouted. “There’s whales in 
this polar sea ! ” 

“I thought you said whales were extinct,” cried 
Sammy. 

“So I did,” replied the captain. “And so they are 
in all Christian waters. Who ever could have ima- 
gined that we would have found ’em here ? ” 

Sarah Block was so frightened when she found there 
was a whale in the same water in which the Dipsey 
floated that she immediately hurried below, with an 
indistinct idea of putting on her things. In such a 
case as this, it was time for her to leave. But soon 
recognizing the state of affairs, she sat down in a chair, 
threw a shawl over her head, and waited for the awful 
bump. 

“Fortunately whales are soft,” she said to herself, 
over and over again. 

No one now thought of buoys. Every eye on deck 
was fixed upon the exposed back of the whale, and 
everybody speedily agreed that it was coming nearer 
to them. It did come nearer and nearer, and at one 
time it raised its head as if it were endeavoring to look 
over the water at the strange object which had come 
into those seas. Then suddenly it tossed its tail high 
into the air and sank out of sight. 

107 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


“It’s a right whale ! ” cried Captain Hubbell. 
“There’s whales in this sea ! Let’s get through this 
buoy business and go cruisin’ after ’em.” 

There was a great deal of excited talk about the 
appearance of the whale, but this was not allowed to 
interfere with the business in hand. A chain, not 
very heavy but of enormous strength, and of sufficient 
length to reach the bottom and give plenty of play, 
was attached to an anchor of a peculiar kind. It was 
very large and heavy, made of iron, and shaped some- 
thing like a cuttlefish, with many arms which would 
cling to the bottom if any force were exerted to move 
the anchor. The other end of the chain was attached 
to the lower part of the buoy, and with powerful 
cranes the anchor was hoisted on deck. When 
everything had been made ready, the buoy, which had 
had the proper date cut upon it, was lowered into the 
water. Then the great anchor was dropped into the 
sea, as nearly as possible over the pole. 

The sudden rush downward of the anchor and the 
chain caused the buoy to dip into the sea as if it were 
about to sink out of sight, but in a few moments it 
rose again, and the great sphere, half-way out of the 
water, floated proudly upon the surface of the polar 
sea. 

Then came a great cheer, and Mrs. Block— who, 
having been assured that the whale had entirely dis- 
appeared, had come on deck— turned to her husband 
and remarked : “Now, Sammy, is there any earthly 
reason why we should not turn right around and go 
straight home ? The pole’s found, the place is marked, 
and what more is there for us to do f ” 

But before her husband could answer her, Captain 
108 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


Hubbell lifted up bis voice, which was full of spirit 
and enthusiasm. 

“ Messmates ! ” he cried, “we have touched at the 
pole, and we have anchored the buoy, and now let us 
go whalin’. It’s thirty years since I saw one of them 
fish, and I never expected in all my born days I’d go 
a-whalin’ ag’in.” 

The rest of the company on the Dipsey took no very 
great interest in the whaling cruise, but, on consulta- 
tion with Mr. Clewe and Mrs. Raleigh at Sardis, it 
was decided that they ought by no means to leave the 
polar sea until they had explored it as thoroughly as 
circumstances would allow. Consequently the next 
day the Dipsey sailed away from the pole, leaving the 
buoy brightly floating on a gently rolling sea, its 
high-uplifted weather-vane glittering in the sun, with 
each of its ends always pointing bravely to the south. 


109 


CHAPTER XIV 

A REGION OF NOTHINGNESS 

In the office of the works at Sardis, side by side at 
the table on which stood the telegraph instrument, 
Margaret Raleigh and Roland Clewe, receiving the 
daily reports from the Dipsey , had found themselves 
in such sympathy and harmony with the party they 
had sent out on this expedition that they, too, in fancy, 
had slowly groped their way under the grim over- 
hanging ice out into the open polar sea. They, too, 
had stood on the deck of the vessel which had risen 
like a spectre out of the waters, and in the cold, clear 
atmosphere had gazed about them at this hitherto 
unknown part of the world. They had thrilled with 
enthusiastic excitement when the ring on the deck of 
the Dipsey was placed over the actual location of the 
pole j they had been filled with anger when they 
heard of the conduct of Rovinski ; and their souls had 
swelled with a noble love of country and pride in 
their own achievements when they heard that they, 
by their representative, had made the north pole a 
part of their native land. They had listened, scarcely 
breathing, to the stirring account of the anchoring of 
the great buoy to one end of the earth’s axis, and they 
110 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


had exclaimed in amazement at the announcement 
that, in the lonely waters of the pole, whales were still 
to be found, when they were totally unknown in every 
other portion of the earth. 

But now the stirring events in the arctic regions 
which had so held and enthralled them day by day 
had, after a time, ceased. Mr. Gibbs was engaged in 
making experiments, observations, and explorations, 
the result of which he would embody in carefully 
prepared reports, and Sammy’s daily message promised 
to be rather monotonous. Roland Clewe felt the great 
importance of a thorough exploration and examina- 
tion of the polar sea. The vessel he had sent out had 
reached this hitherto inaccessible region, but it was 
not at all certain that another voyage, even of the 
same kind, would be successful. Consequently he 
advised those in charge of the expedition not to at- 
tempt to return until the results of their work were 
as complete as possible. Should the arctic night over- 
take them before they left the polar sea, this would 
not interfere with their return in the same manner in 
which they had gone north, for in a submarine voyage 
artificial light would be necessary at any season. So, 
for a time, Roland and Margaret withdrew, in a great 
measure, their thoughts from the vicinity of the pole, 
and devoted themselves to their work at home. 

When Roland Clewe had penetrated with his 
Artesian ray as deeply into the earth beneath him as 
the photic power of his instrument would admit, he 
had applied all the available force of his establish- 
ment— the men working in relays day and night— to 
the manufacture of the instruments which should give 
increased power to the penetrating light which he 
111 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


hoped would make visible to him the interior struc- 
ture of the earth, up to this time as unknown to man 
as had been the regions of the poles. 

Roland had devoted a great deal of time to the ar- 
rangement of a system of reflectors, by which he hoped 
to make it possible to look down into the cylinder of 
light produced by the Artesian ray without projecting 
any portion of the body of the observer into the ray. 
This had been done principally to provide against the 
possibility of a shock to Margaret, such as he received 
when he beheld a man with the upper part of his body 
totally invisible, and a section of the other portion 
laid bare to the eye of a person standing in front of it. 
But his success had not been satisfactory. It was 
quite different to look directly down into that magical 
perforation at his feet, and to study the reflection of 
the same, indistinctly and uncertainly revealed by a 
system of mirrors. 

Consequently the plan of reflectors was discarded, 
and Roland determined that the right thing to do 
was to take Margaret into his confidence and explain 
to her why he and she should not stand together and 
look down the course of the Artesian ray. She scolded 
him for not telling her all this before, and a permanent 
screen was erected around the spot on which the ray 
was intended to work, formed of Venetian blinds with 
fixed slats, so that the person inside could readily talk 
and consult with others outside without being seen 
by them. 

As might well be supposed, this work with the 
“ photic borer/ 7 as Clewe now called his instrument, 
was of absorbing interest. For a day or two after it 
was again put into operation, Margaret and Roland 
112 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


could scarcely tear themselves away from it long 
enough for necessary sleep and meals, and several 
persons connected with the works were frequently 
permitted to witness its wonderful operations. 

Down, down descended that cylinder of light, until 
it had passed through all the known geological strata 
in that part of New Jersey, and had reached subterra- 
nean depths known to Clewe only by comparison and 
theory. 

The apparent excavation had extended itself down 
so far that the disk at the bottom, although so brightly 
illuminated, was no longer clearly visible to the naked 
eye, and was rapidly decreasing in size on account of 
the perspective. But the telescopes which Clewe had 
provided easily overcame this difficulty. He was sure 
that it would be impossible for his light to penetrate 
to a depth which could not be made clearly visible 
by his telescopes. 

It was a wonderful and weird sensation which came 
over those who stood, glass in hand, and gazed down 
the track of the Artesian ray. Far, far below them 
they saw that illuminated disk which revealed the 
character of the stratum which the light had reached. 
And yet, they could not see the telescope which they 
held in their hands ; they could not see their hands ; 
they knew that their heads and shoulders were in- 
visible. All observers except Clewe kept well back 
from the edge of the frightful hole of light down which 
they peered j and once, when the weight of the tele- 
scope which she held had caused Margaret to make an 
involuntary step forward, she gave a fearful scream, 
for she was sure she was going to fall into the bowels 
of the earth. Clewe, who stood always near by, with 
113 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


his hand upon the lever which controlled the ray, 
instantly shut off the light ; and although Margaret was 
thus convinced that she stood upon commonplace 
ground, she came from within the screen, and did not 
for some time recover from the nervous shock occa- 
sioned by this accident of the imagination. 

Clewe himself took great pleasure in making ex- 
periments connected with the relation of the observer 
to the action of the Artesian ray. For instance, he 
found that when standing and gazing down into the 
great photic perforation below him, he could see into 
it quite as well when he shut his eyes as when they 
were open— the light passing through his head made 
his eyelids invisible. He stood in the very centre of 
the circle of light and looked down through himself. 

That this application of light which he had dis- 
covered would be of the greatest possible service in 
surgery, Boland Clewe well knew. By totally elimi- 
nating from view any portion of the human body so 
as to expose a section of said body which it was de- 
sirable to examine, the interior structure of a patient 
could be studied as easily as the exterior, and a surgeon 
would be able to dissect a living being as easily as if 
the subject were a corpse. But Clewe did not now 
wish to make public the extraordinary adaptations of 
his discovery to the uses of the medical man and the 
surgeon. He was intent upon discovering, as far as 
was possible, the internal structure of the earth on 
which he dwelt, and he did not wish to interfere at 
present with this great and absorbing object by dis- 
tracting his mind with any other application of his 
Artesian ray. 

It is not intended to describe in detail the various 
114 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


stages of the progress of the Artesian ray into the 
subterranean regions. Sometimes it revealed strata 
colored red, yellow, or green by the presence of iron 
ore $ sometimes it showed for a short distance a glit- 
tering disk, produced by the action of the light upon 
a deep -sunken reservoir of water ; then it passed on, 
hour by hour, down, down into the eternal rocks. 

When the Artesian ray had begun to work its way 
through the rocks, Margaret became less interested in 
observing its progress. Nothing new presented itself $ 
it was one continual stony disk which she saw when 
she looked down into the shaft of light beneath her. 
Observation was becoming more and more difficult 
even to Roland Clewe, and at last he was obliged to 
set up a large telescope on a stand, and mount a ladder 
in order to use it. 

Day after day the Artesian ray went downward, 
always revealing rock, rock, rock. The appliances for 
increased electric energy were working well, and 
Clewe was entirely satisfied with the operation of his 
photic borer. 

One morning he came hurriedly to Margaret at her 
house, and announced, with glistening eyes, that his 
ray had now gone to a greater degree into the earth 
than man had ever yet reached. 

“What have you found ?” she asked excitedly. 

“Rock upon rock,” he answered. “This little State 
of ours rests on a firm foundation.” 

Although Roland Clewe found his observations 
rather monotonous work, he was regular and constant 
at his post, and gave little opportunity to his steadily 
progressing cylinder of light to reach and pass unseen 
anything which might be of interest. 

115 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


It was nearly a week after he had announced to 
Margaret that he had seen deeper into the earth than 
any man before him that he mounted his ladder to 
take his final observation for the night. When he 
looked through his telescope, his eye was dazzled by a 
light which obliged him suddenly to close it and lift 
his head. At first he thought that he had reached 
the fabulous region of eternal fire, but this he knew 
to be absurd, and, besides, the light was not that of 
fire or heated substances. It was pale, colorless, and 
although dazzling at first, he found, when very cau- 
tiously he applied his eye again to the telescope, that 
it was not blinding— in fact, he cou\d look at it as 
steadily as he could upon a clear sky. 

But, gaze as he would, he could see nothing— noth- 
ing but light— subdued, soft, beautiful light. He 
knew the ray was passing steadily downward, for the 
mechanism was working with its accustomed regu- 
larity, but it revealed to him nothing at all. He could 
not understand it ; his brain was dazed. He thought 
there might be something the matter with his eye- 
sight. He got down from the ladder and hurriedly 
sent for Margaret, and when she came he begged her 
to look through the telescope and tell him what she 
saw. She went inside the screen, ascended the ladder, 
and looked down. 

“It isn’t anything,” she called out presently. “It 
looks like lighter air. It can’t be that. Perhaps 
there is something the matter with your telescope.” 

Clewe had thought of that, and as soon as she came 
out he examined the instrument. But the lenses were 
all right. There was nothing the matter with the 
telescope. 


116 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


That night Roland Clewe spent in the lens-house, 
almost constantly at the telescope. But nothing did 
he see but a disk of soft, white light. 

“The world can’t be hollow ! ” he said to Margaret, 
the next morning. “It can’t be filled with air, or 
nothing, and my ray would not illuminate air or 
nothing. I cannot understand it. If you did not see 
what I see, I should think I was going crazy.” 

“Don’t talk that way ! ” exclaimed Margaret. “This 
may be some cavity which the ray will soon pass 
through, and then we shall come to the good old 
familiar rock again.” 

But Clewe could not be consoled in this way. He 
could see no reason why his ray, acting upon the 
emptiness of a cavern, should produce the effect he 
beheld. Moreover, if the ray had revealed a cavern 
of considerable extent, he could not expect that it 
could now pass through it, for the limit of its oper- 
ations was almost reached. His electric cumulators 
would cease to act in a few hours more. The ray 
had now descended more than fourteen miles— its 
limit was fifteen. 

Margaret was greatly troubled because of the effect 
of this result of the photic borer upon Roland. His 
disappointment was very great, and it showed itself in 
his face. His Artesian ray had gone down to a dis- 
tance greater than had been sometimes estimated as 
the thickness of the earth’s crust, and the result was 
of no value. Roland did not believe that the earth had 
a crust. He had no faith in the old-fashioned idea 
that the great central portion was a mass of molten 
matter, but he could not drive from his mind the con- 
viction that his light had passed through the solid 
117 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


portion of the earth, and had emerged into something 
which was not solid, which was not liquid— which was, 
in fact, nothing. 

All his labors had come to this : he had discovered 
that the various strata near the earth’s surface rested 
upon a vast bed of rock, and that this bed of rock 
rested upon nothing. Of course, it was not impossible 
that the arrangement of the substances which make 
up this globe was peculiar at this point, and that there 
was a great cavern fourteen miles below him ; but why 
should such a cavern be filled with a light different 
from that which would be shown by his Artesian ray 
when shining upon any other substances, open air or 
solid matter? 

He could go no deeper down— at least, at present. 
If he could make an instrument of increased power, 
it would require many months to do it. 

“But I will do it,” said he to Margaret. “If this 
is a cavern, and if it has a bottom, I will reach it. I 
will go on and see what there is beyond. On such a 
discovery as I have made one can pass no conclusion 
whatever. If I cannot go farther, I need not have 
gone down at all.” 

“No,” said Margaret, “I don’t want you to go on— 
at least, at present. You must wait. The earth will 
wait, and I want you to be in a condition to be able to 
wait also. You must now stop this work altogether. 
Stop doing anything. Stop thinking about it. After 
a time— say early in winter— we can recommence 
operations with the Artesian ray— that is, if we think 
well to do so. You should stop this and take up 
something else. You have several enterprises which 
are very important and ought to be carried on. Take 
118 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


up one of them, and think no more for a few months 
of the nothingness which is fourteen miles below us.” 

It was not difficult for Roland Clewe to convince 
himself that this was very good advice. He resolved 
to shut up his lens-house entirely for a time, and to 
think no more of the great work he had done within 
it, but apply himself to something which he had long 
neglected, and which would be a distraction and a 
recreation to his disappointed mind. 


119 


CHAPTER XV 


THE AUTOMATIC SHELL 

In a large building, not far from the lens-house in 
which Roland Clewe had pursued the experiments 
which had come to such a disappointing conclusion, 
there was a piece of mechanism which interested its 
inventor more than any other of his works, excepting, 
of course, the photic borer. 

This was an enormous projectile, the peculiarity of 
which was that its motive power was contained within 
itself, very much as a rocket contains the explosives 
which send it upward. It differed, however, from 
the rocket or any other similar projectile, and many 
of its features were entirely original with Roland 
Clewe. 

This extraordinary piece of mechanism, which was 
called the automatic shell, was of cylindrical form, 
eighteen feet in length and four feet in diameter. 
The forward end was conical and not solid, being 
formed of a number of flat steel rings, decreasing in 
size as they approached the point of the cone. When 
not in operation these rings did not touch one another, 
but they could be forced together by pressure on the 
point of the cone. This shell might contain explo- 
120 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


sives, or not, as might be considered desirable, and it 
was not intended to fire it from a cannon, but to start 
it on its course from a long semicylindrical trough, 
which would be used simply to give it the desired 
direction. After it had been started by a ram worked 
by an engine at the rear end of the trough, it im- 
mediately began to propel itself by means of the 
mechanism contained within it. 

But the great value of this shell lay in the fact that 
the moment it encountered a solid substance or ob- 
struction of any kind, its propelling power became 
increased. The rings which formed the cone on its 
forward end were pressed together, the electric motive 
power was increased in proportion to the pressure, and 
thus the greater the resistance to this projectile, the 
greater became its velocity and power of progression, 
and its onward course continued until its self-con- 
tained force had been exhausted. 

The power of explosives had reached, at this period, 
to so high a point that it was unnecessary to devise 
any increase in their enormous energy, and the only 
problems before the students of artillery practice re- 
lated to methods of getting their projectiles to the 
points desired. Progress in this branch of the science 
had proceeded so far that an attack upon a fortified 
port by armored vessels was now considered as a thing 
of the past, and although there had been no naval 
wars of late years, it was believed that never again 
would there be a combat between ironclads, wooden 
vessels being preferable. 

The recently invented magnetic shell made artillery 
practice against all vessels of steel a mere mechanical 
process, demanding no skill whatever. When one of 
121 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


these magnetic shells was thrown anywhere in the 
vicinity of an iron ship, the powerful magnetism 
developed within it instantly attracted it to the 
vessel, which was destroyed by the ensuing contact 
and explosion. Two ironclads meeting on the ocean 
need to fire but one shell each to be both destroyed. 
The inability of iron battle-ships to withstand this 
improvement in artillery had already set the naval 
architects of the world upon the work of constructing 
war-ships which would not attract the magnetic shell, 
—which was effective even when laid on the bottoms 
of harbors,— and Roland Clewe had been engaged in 
making plans and experiments for the construction of 
a paper man-of-war, which he believed would meet 
the requirements of the situation. 

When Clewe determined to follow Margaret Ra- 
leigh’s advice and give up for a time his work with 
the Artesian ray, his thoughts naturally turned to his 
automatic shell. Work upon this invention was now 
almost completed, but the great difficulty which its 
inventor expected to meet with was that of inducing 
his government to make a trial of it. Such a trial 
would be extremely expensive, involving probably 
the destruction of the shell, and he did not feel able 
or willing to experiment with it without governmental 
aid. 

The shell was intended for use on land as well as at 
sea, against cities and great fortified structures, and 
Clewe believed that the automatic shell might be 
brought within fifty miles of a city, set up with its 
trough and ram, and projected in a level line toward 
its object, to which it would impel itself with irresist- 
ible power and velocity, through forests, hills, build- 
122 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


ings, and everything, gaining strength from every 
opposition which stood in the direct line of its prog- 
ress. Attacking fortifications from the sea, the vessel 
carrying this great projectile could operate at a dis- 
tance beyond the reach of the magnetic shell. 

Now that the automatic shell itself was finished, 
and nothing remained to be done but to complete the 
great steel trough in which it would lie, Roland Clewe 
found himself confronted with a business which was 
very hard and very distasteful to him. He must in- 
duce other people to do what he was not able to do 
himself. Unless his shell was put to a practical trial, 
it could be of no value to the world or to himself. 

In one of the many conversations on the subject, 
Margaret had suggested something which rapidly 
grew and developed in Roland’s mind. 

“It would be an admirable thing to tunnel moun- 
tains with,” said she,— “of course, I mean a large one, 
as thick through as a tunnel ought to be.” 

In less than a day Clewe had perfected an idea 
which he believed might be of practical service. For 
some time there had been talk of a new railroad in 
this part of the State, but one of the difficulties in the 
way was the necessity of making a tunnel or a deep 
cut through a small mountain. To go round this 
mountain would be objectionable for many reasons, 
and to go through it would be enormously expensive. 
Clewe knew the country well, and his soul glowed 
within him as he thought that here, perhaps, was an 
opportunity for him to demonstrate the value of his 
invention, not only as an agent in warfare, but as a 
wonderful assistant in the peaceful progress of the 
world. 


123 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


There was no reason why such shells should not be 
constructed for the express purpose of making tunnels. 
Nothing could be better adapted for an experiment 
of this kind than the low mountain in question. If 
the shell passed through it at the desired point, there 
would be nothing beyond which could be injured, 
and it would then enter the end of a small chain of 
mountains, and might pass onward as far as its mo- 
tive power would carry it, without doing any damage 
whatever. Moreover, its course could be followed, and 
it could be recovered. 

Both Roland and Margaret were very enthusiastic 
in favor of this trial of the automatic shell, and they 
determined that if the railroad company would pay 
them a fair price if they should succeed in tunnelling 
the mountain, they would charge nothing should their 
experiment be a failure. Of course, the tunnel the 
shell would make, if everything worked properly, 
would not be large enough for any practical use $ but 
explosives might be placed along its length, which, if 
desired, would blow out that portion of the mountain 
which lay immediately above the tunnel, and this 
great cut could readily be enlarged to any desired 
dimensions. 

Clewe would have gone immediately to confer with 
the secretary of the railroad company, with whom he 
was acquainted, but that gentleman was at the sea- 
side, and the business was necessarily postponed. 

“Now,” said Clewe to Margaret, “if I could do it, 
I’d like to take a run up to the polar sea, and see for 
myself what they have discovered. Judging from 
Sammy’s infrequent despatches, the party in general 
must be getting a little tired of Mr. Gibbs’s experi- 
124 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


merits and soundings ; but I should be intensely inter- 
ested in them . 77 

“I don’t wonder,” answered Margaret, “that they 
are getting tired. They have found the pole, and they 
want to come home. That is natural enough. But, 
for my part, I am very glad we can’t run up there. 
Even if we had another Bipsey , I should decidedly 
oppose it. I might agree that we should go to Cape 
Tariff, but I would not agree to anything more. You 
may discover poles if you want to, but you must do it 
by proxy.” 

At this moment an awful crash was heard. It came 
from the building containing the automatic shell. 
Clewe and Margaret started to their feet. They 
glanced at each other, and then both ran from the 
office at the top of their speed. Other people were 
running from various parts of the works. There 
was no smoke, there was no dust. There had been 
no explosion, as Clewe had feared in his first alarm. 

When they entered the building, Clewe and Mar- 
garet stood aghast. There were workmen shouting or 
standing with open mouths ; others were running in. 
The massive scaffolding, twenty feet in height, on 
which the shell had been raised so that the steel 
trough might be run under it, lay in splinters upon 
the ground. The great automatic shell itself had 
entirely disappeared. 

For some moments no one said anything. All stood 
astounded, looking at the space where the shell had 
been. Then Clewe hurried forward. In the ground, 
amid the wreck of the scaffolding, was a circular hole 
about four feet in diameter. Clasping the hand of a 
man near him, he cautiously peered over the edge and 
125 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 

looked down. It was dark and deep. He saw noth- 
ing. 

Roland Clewe stepped back. He put his hands over 
his eyes and thought. Now he comprehended every- 
thing clearly. The weight of the shell had been too 
great for its supports. The forward part, which con- 
tained the propelling mechanism, was much heavier 
than the other end, and had gone down first, so that 
the shell had turned over and had fallen perpendicu- 
larly, striking the ground with the point of the cone. 
Then its tremendous propelling energy, infinitely 
more powerful than any dynamic force dreamed of in 
the preceding century, was instantly generated. The 
inconceivably rapid motion which forced it forward 
like a screw must have then commenced, and it had 
bored itself down deep into the solid earth. 

“ Roland dear,” said Margaret, stepping quietly up 
to him, tears on her pale countenance, “ don’t you 
think it can be hoisted up again ? ” 

“I hope not,” said he. 

“Why do you say that?” she asked, astonished. 

“Because,” he answered, “il it has not penetrated 
far enough into the earth to make it utterly out of 
our power to get it again, the thing is a failure.” 

“More than that,” thought Margaret, “if it has 
gone down entirely out of our reach, the thing is a 
failure all the same, for I don’t believe he can ever be 
induced to make another.” 


126 


CHAPTER XVI 


THE TRACK OF THE SHELL 

During the course of his inventive life Roland Cl ewe 
had become accustomed to disappointments. He was 
very much afraid, indeed, that he was beginning to 
expect them. If that really happened, there would 
be an end to his career. 

But when he spoke in this way to Margaret, she 
almost scolded him. 

“How utterly absurd it is,” she said, “for a man, 
who has just discovered the north pole, to sit down in 
an arm-chair and talk in that way ! ” 

“I didn’t discover it,” he said. “It was Sammy and 
Gibbs who found the pole. As for me— I don’t sup- 
pose I shall ever see it.” 

“I am not so sure of that,” she said. “We may yet 
invent a telescope which shall curve its reflected rays 
over the rotundity of the earth and above the highest 
icebergs, so that you and I may sit here and look at 
the waters of the pole gently splashing around the 
great buoy.” 

“And charge a dollar apiece to all other people 
who would like to look at the pole, and so we would 
make much money,” said he. “But I must really go 
and do something. I shall go crazy if I sit here idle.” 

127 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


Margaret knew that the loss of the shell was the 
greatest blow that Roland had ever yet received. His 
ambitions as a scientific inventor were varied, but she 
was well aware that for some years he had considered 
it of great importance to do something which would 
bring him in money enough to go on with his investi- 
gations and labors without depending entirely upon 
her for the necessary capital. If he could have tun- 
nelled a mountain with this shell, or if he had but 
partially succeeded in so doing, money would have 
come to him. He would have made his first pecuniary 
success of any importance. 

“What are you going to do, Roland ?” said she, as 
he rose to leave the room. 

“I am going to find the depth of the hole that shell 
has made. It ought to be filled up, and I must cal- 
culate how many loads of earth and stones it will take 
to do it.” 

That afternoon he came to Mrs. Raleigh’s house. 

“Margaret,” he exclaimed, “I have lowered a lead 
into that hole with all the line attached which we have 
got on the place, and we can touch no bottom ! I have 
telegraphed for a lot of sounding- wire, and I must 
wait until it arrives before I do anything more.” 

“You must be very, very careful, Roland, when you 
are doing that work,” said Margaret. “Suppose you 
should fall in ! ” 

“I have provided against that,” said he. “I have 
laid a floor over the hole, with only a small opening in 
it, so there is no danger. And another curious thing 
I must tell you : our line is not wet— we have struck 
no water ! ” 

When Margaret visited the works the next day, she 
128 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


found Roland Clewe and a number of workmen sur- 
rounding the flooring which had been laid over the 
hole. They were sounding with a windlass which 
carried an immense reel of wire. The wire was ex- 
tremely thin, but the weight of that portion of it 
which had already been unwound was so great that 
four men were at the brakes of the windlass. 

Roland came to meet Margaret as she entered. 

“The lead has gone down six miles,” he said, in a 
low voice, “and we have not touched the bottom 
yet.” 

“Impossible ! ” she cried. “Roland, it cannot be ! 
The wire must be coiling itself up somewhere. It is 
incredible ! The lead cannot have gone down so far ! ” 

“Leads have gone down as far as that before this,” 
said he. “Soundings of more than six miles have been 
obtained at sea.” 

She went with him and stood near the windlass. 
For an hour she remained by his side, and still the 
reel turned steadily and the wire descended into the 
hole. 

“Will you surely know when it gets to the bottom % ” 
said she. 

“Yes,” he answered. “When the electric button 
under the lead touches anything solid, or even any- 
thing fluid, this bell up here will ring.” 

She stayed until she could stay no longer. She 
knew it would be of no use to urge Roland to leave 
the windlass. Very early the next morning a note 
was brought to her before she was up, and on it was 
written : 

“We have touched bottom at a depth of fourteen and 
an eighth miles.” 


129 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


When Roland came to Mrs. Raleigh’s house, about 
nine o’clock that morning, his face was pale and his 
whole form trembled. 

“Margaret,” he cried, “what are we going to do 
about it ? It is wonderful ! I cannot appreciate it. I 
have had all the men up in the office this morning, and 
pledged them to secrecy. Of course, they won’t keep 
their promises, but it was all that I could do. I can 
think of no particular damage which would come to 
me if this thing were known, but I cannot bear that 
the public should get hold of it until I know something 
myself. Margaret, I don’t know anything ! ” 

“Have you had your breakfast?” she asked. 

“No,” he said, “ I haven’t thought of it.” 

“Did you eat anything last night?” 

“I don’t remember,” he answered. 

“Now, I want you to come into the dining-room,” 
said she. “I had a light breakfast some time ago, and 
I am going to eat another with you. I want you to 
tell me something. There was a man here the other 
day with a patent machine for making buttonholes,— 
you know, the old-fashioned buttonholes are coming 
in again,— and if this is a good invention it ought to 
sell, for nearly everybody has forgotten how to make 
buttonholes in the old way.” 

“Oh, nonsense ! ” said Roland. “How can you talk 
of such things? I can’t take my mind—” 

“I know you can’t,” she interrupted. “You are all 
the time thinking of that everlasting old hole in the 
ground. Well, I am tired of it. Do let us talk of 
something else.” 

Margaret Raleigh was much more than tired of that 
phenomenal hole in the earth which had been made 
130 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


by the automatic shell : she was frightened by it. It 
was something terrible to her. She had scarcely slept 
that night, and she needed breakfast and change of 
thought as much as Eoland did. 

But it was not long before she found that it was im- 
possible to turn his thoughts from that all-absorbing 
subject. All she could do was to endeavor to guide 
them into quiet channels. 

“What are you going to do this morning !” she 
asked, toward the close of the breakfast. 

“I am going to try to take the temperature of that 
shaft at various points,” said he. 

“That will be an excellent thing,” she answered. 
“You may make valuable discoveries. But I should 
think the heat at that great depth would be enough 
to melt your thermometers.” 

“It did not melt my lead or my sounding-wire,” 
said he. And as he said these words her heart fell. 

The temperature of this great perforation was taken 
at many points, and when Eoland brought to Margaret 
the statement of the height of the mercury at the very 
bottom, she was astounded and shocked to find that it 
was only eighty-three degrees. 

“This is terrible ! ” she ejaculated. 

“What do you mean ? ” he asked in surprise. “That 
is not hot. Why, it is only summer weather.” 

But she did not think it terrible because it was so 
hot. The fact that it was so cool had shocked her. In 
such temperature one could live ! A great source of 
trust and hope had been taken from her. 

“Eoland,” she said, sinking into a chair, “I don’t 
understand this at all. I always thought that it be- 
came hotter and hotter as one went down into the 
131 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


earth, and I once read that at twenty miles below the 
surface, if the heat increased in proportion as it in- 
creased in a mine, the temperature must be over a 
thousand degrees Fahrenheit. Your instrument could 
not have registered properly. Perhaps it never went 
all the way down, and perhaps it is all a mistake. It may 
be that the lead did not go down so far as you think.” 

He smiled. He was becoming calmer now, for he 
was doing something : he was obtaining results. 

“Those ideas about increasing heat at increasing 
depths are old-fashioned, Margaret,” he said. “Re- 
cent science has given us better theories. It is known 
that there is great heat in the interior of the earth, 
and it is also known that the transmission of this heat 
toward the surface depends upon the conductivity of 
the rocks in particular locations. In some places the 
heat comes very near the surface, and in others it is 
very, very far down. More than that, the temperature 
may rise as we go down into the earth, and afterwards 
fall again. There may be a stratum of close-grained 
rock, possibly containing metal, coming up from the 
interior in an oblique direction and bringing the heat 
toward the surface. Then below that there may be 
vast regions of other rocks which do not readily con- 
duct heat, and which do not originate in heated por- 
tions of the earth’s interior. When we reach these, 
we must find the temperature lower, as a matter of 
course. Now, I have really done this. A little over 
five miles down my thermometer registered ninety- 
one, and after that it began to fall a little. But the 
rocks under us are poor conductors of heat, and, more- 
over, it is highly probable that they have no near 
communication with the source of internal heat.” 


132 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


“I thought these things were more exact and regu- 
lar/’ said she. “I supposed, if you went down a mile 
in one place, you would find it as hot as you would in 
another.” 

“Oh, no,” said he. “There is nothing regular or 
exact in nature. Even our earth is not a perfect 
sphere. Nature is never mathematically correct. 
You must always allow for variations. In some parts 
of the earth its heated core, or whatever it is, must be 
very, very far down.” 

At this moment a happy thought struck Margaret. 

“How easy it would be, Roland, for you to examine 
this great hole ! I can do it— anybody can do it. It’s 
perfectly amazing, when you think of it. All you have 
to do is to take your Artesian-ray machine into that 
building and set it over the hole ; then you can light 
the whole interior, all the way down to the bottom, 
and with a telescope you can see everything that is 
in it.” 

“Yes,” said he. “But I think I can do it better 
than that. It would be very difficult to transfer the 
photic borer to the other building, and I can light up 
the interior perfectly well by means of electric lights. 
I can even lower a camera down to the very bottom 
and take photographs of the interior.” 

“Why, that would be perfectly glorious ! ” cried 
Margaret, springing to her feet, an immense relief 
coming to her mind with the thought that to examine 
this actual shaft it would not be necessary for anybody 
to go down into it. 

“I should go to work at that immediately,” said he, 
“but I must have a different sort of windlass— one 
that shall be moved by an engine. I will rig up the 
133 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


big telescope, too, so that we can look down when we 
have lighted up the bottom.” 

It required days to do all that Roland Clewe had 
planned. A great deal of the necessary work was 
done in his own establishment, and much machinery 
besides was sent from NewY ork. When all was ready, 
many experiments were made with the electric lights 
and camera, and photographs of inexpressible value 
and interest were taken at various points on the sides 
of this wonderful perpendicular tunnel. 

At last Clewe was prepared to photograph the lower 
portion of the shaft. With a peculiar camera and a 
powerful light, five photographs were taken of the 
very bottom of the great shaft— four in horizontal 
directions, and one immediately below the camera. 
When these photographs were printed by the im- 
proved methods then in vogue, Clewe seized the pic- 
tures and examined them with eager haste. For some 
moments he stood silent, his eyes fixed upon the 
photographs as if there were nothing else in this world. 
But all he saw on each was an irregular patch of light. 
He thrust the prints aside, and in a loud, sharp voice 
he gave orders to bring the great telescope and set it 
up above the hole. The light was still at the bottom, 
and the instant the telescope was in position, Clewe 
mounted the step-ladder and directed the instrument 
downward. In a few moments he gave an exclama- 
tion, and then he came down from the ladder so 
rapidly that he barely missed falling. He went into 
his office and sent for Margaret. When she came he 
showed her the photographs. 

“See ! ” he said. “What I have found is nothing. 

134 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


Even a camera shows nothing, and when I look down 
through the glass I see nothing. It is just what the 
Artesian ray showed me. It is nothing at all ! ” 

“I should think,” said she, speaking very slowly, 
“that if your sounding-lead had gone down into 
nothing, it would have continued to go down indefi- 
nitely. What was there to stop it if there is nothing 
there f ” 

“Margaret,” said he, “I don’t know anything about 
it. That is the crushing truth. I can find out nothing 
at all. When I look down through the earth by means 
of the Artesian ray, I reach a certain depth and then 
I see a void. When I look down through a perfectly 
open passage to the same depth, I still see a void.” 

“But, Roland,” said Margaret, holding in her hand 
the view taken of the bottom of the shaft, “what is 
this in the middle of the proof? It is darker than the 
rest, but it seems to be all covered up with mistiness. 
Have you a magnifying-glass ? ” 

Roland found a glass, and seized the photograph. 
He actually forgot his usual courtesy. 

“Margaret,” he cried, “that dark thing is my auto- 
matic shell ! It is lying on its side. I can see the 
greater part of it. It is not in the hole it made itself $ 
it is in a cavity. It has turned over, and lies hori- 
zontally. It has bored down into a cave, Margaret— 
into a cave — a cave with a solid bottom — a cave made 
of light!” 

“Nonsense ! ” said Margaret. “Caves cannot be made 
of light. The light that you see comes from your elec- 
tric lamp.” 

“Not at all!” he cried. “If there was anything 
135 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


there, the light of my lamp would show it. Through 
the whole depth of the shaft the light showed every- 
thing and the camera showed everything. You can 
see the very texture of the rocks. But when the 
camera goes to the bottom, when it enters this space 
into which the shaft plainly leads, it shows nothing at 
all, except what I may be said to have put there. I 
see only my great shell, surrounded by light, resting 
on light ! ” 

“Roland,” said Margaret, “you are crazy ! Perhaps 
it is water which fills that cave, or whatever it is.” 

“Not at all,” said Roland. “It presents no ap- 
pearance of water, and when the camera came up it 
was not wet. No, it is a cave of light.” 

He sat for some minutes silently gazing out of the 
window. Margaret drew her chair closer to him. 
She took one of his hands in both of hers. 

“Look at me, Roland !” she said. “What are you 
thinking about?” 

He turned his face upon her, but said nothing. She 
looked straight into his eyes, and she needed no Ar- 
tesian ray to enable her to see through them into his 
innermost brain. She saw what was filling that brain. 
It was one great, overpowering desire to go down to 
the bottom of that hole, to find out what it was that 
he had discovered. 

“Margaret, you hurt me ! ” he exclaimed suddenly. 
In the intensity of the emotion excited by what she 
had discovered, her finger-nails had nearly penetrated 
through his skin. She had felt as if she would hold 
him and hold him forever, but she released his hand. 

“We haven’t talked about that buttonhole -ma- 
chine,” she said. “I want your opinion of it.” 

136 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


To her surprise, Roland began immediately to dis- 
cuss the new invention of which she had spoken, and 
asked her to describe it. He was not at all anxious 
now to tell Margaret what he was thinking of in con- 
nection with the track of the shell. 


137 


CHAPTER XVII 


CAPTAIN HUBBELL DECLINES TO GO WHALING 

The most impatient person on board the Dipsey was 
Captain Jim Hubbell. Sarah Block was also very 
anxious to go home as soon as matters could be ar- 
ranged for the return journey, and she talked a great 
deal of the terrible fate which would be sure to over- 
take them if they should be so unfortunate as to stay 
until the season of the arctic night. But, after all, 
she was not as impatient as Captain Hubbell. She 
simply wanted to go home ; but he not only greatly 
desired to return to his wife and family, but he wanted 
to do something else before he started south : he 
wanted to go whaling. He considered himself the 
only man in the whole world who had a chance to 
go whaling, and he chafed as he thought of the hin- 
drances which Mr. Gibbs was continually placing in 
the way of this, the grandest of all sports. 

Mr. Gibbs was a mild man, and rather a quiet one, 
but he thoroughly understood the importance of the 
investigations he was pursuing in the polar sea, and 
placed full value upon the opportunity which had 
come to him of examining the wonders of a region 
hitherto locked up from civilized man. Captain Hub- 
138 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


bell was astonished to find that Mr. Gibbs was as hard 
and unyielding as an iceberg during his explorations 
and soundings. It was of no use to talk to him of 
whaling. He had work before him, and he must do it. 

But the time came when Mr. Gibbs relented. The 
Dipsey had sailed around the whole boundary of the 
polar sea ; observations, surveys, and maps had been 
made, and the general geography of the region had 
been fairly well determined. There still remained 
some weeks of the arctic day, and it was desirable that 
they should begin their return journey during that 
time, so Mr. Gibbs informed Captain Jim that if he 
wanted to do a little whaling, he would like him to 
lose no time. 

Almost from the time of their arrival in the polar 
sea, the subject of whales had greatly interested every- 
body on the Dipsey . Even Rovinski, who had been 
released from his confinement after a few days, be- 
cause he had really committed no actual crime except 
that of indulging in overleaping ambition, had spent 
every available minute of leisure in looking for whales. 
It was strange that nothing in this Northern region 
interested the people on the Dipsey (with the sole 
exception of Mr. Gibbs) so much as these great fish, 
which seemed to be the only visible inhabitants of the 
polar solitudes. There were probably white bears 
somewhere on the icy shores about them, but they 
never showed themselves, and if birds were there, 
they did not fly over that sea. 

There was reason to suppose that there were a good 
many whales in the polar sea. Wherever our party 
sailed, lay to, or anchored for a time, they were very 
sure, before long, to see a whale curving his shining 
139 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


black back into the light, or sending two beautiful jets 
of water up into the air. Whenever a whale was seen, 
somebody on board was sure to remark that these 
creatures in this part of the world seemed to be very 
tame. It was not at all uncommon to see one disport 
himself at no great distance from the vessel for an 
hour or more. 

“If I could get among a school of whales anywhere 
around Nantucket, and find ’em as tame as these 
fellers/’ said Captain Jim, “I’d give a boom to the 
whale-oil business that it hasn’t had for forty years.” 

But not long before Mr. Gibbs told the captain that 
he might go whaling if he felt like it, the old sailor 
had experienced a change of mind. He had become a 
most ardent student of whales. In his very circum- 
scribed experience when a young man he had seen 
whales, but they had generally been a long way off, 
and as the old-fashioned method of rowing after them 
in boats had even then been abandoned in favor of 
killing them by means of the rifled cannon, Captain 
Hubbell had not seen very much of these creatures 
until they had been towed alongside. But now he 
could study whales at his leisure. It was seldom that 
he had to wait very long before he would see one near 
enough for him to examine it with a glass, and he 
never failed to avail himself of such opportunities. 

The consequence of this constant and careful inspec- 
tion was the conclusion, in Captain Hubbell’s mind, 
that there was only one whale in the polar sea. He had 
noticed, and others had noticed, that they never saw 
two at once, and the captain had used his glass so often 
and so well that one morning he stamped his foot upon 
the deck and said to Sammy : 

140 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


“I believe that’s the same whale over and over and 
over ag’in. I know him like a book. He has his ways 
and his manners, and it isn’t reasonable to suppose 
that every whale has the same ways and manners. 
He comes just so near the vessel, and then he stops 
and blows. Then he suns his back for a while, and then 
he throws up his flukes and sounds. He does that as 
regular as if he was a polar clock. I know the very 
shape of his flukes, and two or three days ago, as he 
was soundin’, I thought that the tip of the upper one 
looked as if it had been damaged— as if he had broken 
it floppin’ about in some tight place ; and ever since, 
when I have seen a whale, I have looked for the tip 
of that upper fluke, and there’s that same old break. 
Every time I have looked I have found it. It can’t 
be that there are a lot o’ whales in here, and each one 
of ’em with a battered fluke.” 

“That does look sort o’ queer,” said Sammy, reflec- 
tively. 

“Sammy Block,” said Captain Jim, impressively, 
“it’s my opinion that there’s only one whale in this 
here polar sea ; and, more than that, it’s my opinion 
that there’s only one whale in this world, and that that 
feller we’ve seen is the one ! Samuel Block, he’s the 
last whale in the whole world ! How, you know that 
I wanted to go a- whalin’— that’s natural enough 0 But 
since Mr. Gibbs has got through, and has said that I 
could take this vessel an’ go a-whalin’ if I wanted to, 
—which would be easy enough, for we have got guns 
aboard which would kill any right whale, — I don’t 
want to go. I don’t want to lay on my dyin’ bed and 
think that I’m the man that killed the last whale in 
the world. I’m commandin’ this vessel, and I sail it 
141 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


wherever Mr. Gibbs tells me to sail it ; but if he wants 
the bones of a whale to take home as a curiosity, and 
tells me to sail this vessel after that whale, I won’t 
do it.” 

“Pm with you there,” said Sammy. “I have been 
thinkin’ while you was talkin’, and it’s my opinion that 
it’s not only the last whale in the world, but it’s purty 
nigh tame. I believe it’s so glad to see some other 
movin’ creature in this lonely sea that it wants to 
keep company with us all the time. N o, sir, I wouldn’t 
have anything to do with killin’ that fish ! ” 

The opinions of the captain and Sammy were now 
communicated to the rest of the company on board, 
and nearly all of them thought that they had had such 
an idea themselves. The whale certainly looked very 
familiar every time he showed himself. 

To Mr. Gibbs this lonely creature, if he were such, 
now became an object of intense interest. It was evi- 
dently a specimen of the right whale, once common in 
the Northern seas, skeletons of which could be seen in 
many museums. Nothing would be gained to science 
by his capture, and Mr. Gibbs agreed with the others 
that it would be a pity to harm this, the last of his 
race. 

In thinking and talking over the matter Mr. Gibbs 
formed a theory which he thought would explain the 
presence of this solitary whale in the polar sea. He 
thought it very likely that it had gotten under the 
ice and had pursued its northern journey very much 
as the Dipsey had pursued hers, and had at last emerged, 
as she had, into the polar sea at a place perhaps as 
shallow as that where the submarine vessel came out 
from under the ice. 


142 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


“And if that’s the case/’ said Captain Hubbell, “it 
is ten to one that he has not been able to get out again, 
and has found himself here caught just as if he was in 
a trap. Fishes don’t like to swim into tight places. 
They may do it once, but they don’t want to do it 
again. It is this disposition that makes ’em easy to 
catch in traps. I believe you are right, Mr. Gibbs. 
I believe this whale has got in here and can’t get out 
— or, at least, he thinks he can’t. And nobody knows 
how long it’s been since he first got in. It may have 
been a hundred years ago. There’s plenty o’ little 
fish in these waters for him to eat, and he’s the only 
one there is to feed.” 

The thought that in this polar sea with themselves 
was a great whale, which was probably here simply 
because he could not get out, had a depressing effect 
upon the minds of the party on the Dipsey. There 
was perhaps no real reason why they should fear the 
fate of the great fish, but, after all, this subject was 
one which should be very seriously considered. The 
latter part of their passage under the ice had been 
very hazardous. Had they struck a sharp rock below 
them, or had they been pierced by a jagged mass of 
ice above them, there probably would have been a 
speedy end of the expedition, and now, having come 
safely out of that dangerous shallow water, they shrank 
from going into it again. 

It was the general opinion that if they would sail a 
considerable distance to the eastward they could not 
fail to find a deep channel by which the waters of this 
sea communicated with Baffin Bay, but in this case 
they would be obliged to leave the line of longitude 
by which they had safely travelled from Cape Tariff 
143 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


to the pole, and seek another route southward, along 
some other line, which would end their journey they 
knew not where. 

“I am cold,” said Sarah Block. “At first I got along 
all right, with all these furs, and goin’ down-stairs 
every time I felt chilly, but the freezing air is begin- 
ning to go into my very bones like needles ; and if 
winter is cornin’ on, and it’s goin’ to be worse than 
this, New Jersey is the place for me. But there’s one 
thing that chills my blood clammier than even the 
cold weather, and that is the thought of that whale 
follerin’ us. If we get down into those shaller places 
under the ice, and he takes it into his head to come 
along, he’ll be worse than a bull in a china shop. I 
don’t mean to say that I think he’ll want to do us any 
harm, for he has never showed any sign of such a feelin’, 
but if he takes to bouncin’ and thrashin’ when he 
scratches himself on any rocks, it’ll be a bad box for 
us to be in.” 

None of the others shared these special fears of 
Mrs. Block, but they were all as much disinclined as 
she was to begin another submarine voyage in the 
shallow waters which they had been so glad to leave. 

It was believed, from the general contour of the 
surrounding region, that if the ice were all melted 
away it would be seen that a cape projected from the 
American continent eastward at the point where they 
had entered the polar sea, and that it was in crossing 
the submerged continuation of this cape that they had 
found the shallow water. Beyond and southward they 
knew that the water was deep and safe. If they could 
reach that portion of the sea without crossing the 
shallow point, they would have no fears regarding 
their return voyage. They knew how far south it 
144 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


was that that deep water lay, and the questions before 
them related to the best means of reaching it. 

At a general council of officers, Sammy and Captain 
Hubbell both declared that they were not willing to 
take any other path homeward except one which led 
along the seventieth line of longitude. That had 
brought them safely up, and it would take them safely 
down. If they went under the ice at some point east- 
ward, how were they to find the seventieth line of 
longitude? They could not take observations down 
there, and they might have to go south on some other 
line, which would take them nobody knew where. 
Mr. Gibbs said little, but he believed that it would be 
well to go back the way they came. 

At last a plan was proposed by Mr. Marcy, and 
adopted without dissent. The whole country which 
lay in the direction they wished to travel seemed to 
be an immense plain of ice and snow, with mountains 
looming up toward the west and in the far southeast. 
In places great slabs of ice seemed to be piled up into 
craggy masses, but in general the surface of the coun- 
try was quite level, indicating underlying water. In 
fact, a little east of the point where they had entered 
the polar sea, great cracks and reefs, some of them 
extending nearly a mile inward, broke up the shore- 
line. The party on the Bipsey were fully able to 
travel over smooth ice and frozen snow, for this con- 
tingency had been thought of and provided for. But 
to take the Bipsey on an overland journey would, of 
course, be impossible. By Mr. Marcy’s plan, however, 
it was thought that it would be quite feasible for the 
Bipsey to sail inland until she had reached a point 
where they were sure the deep sea lay serenely be- 
neath the ice around them. 


145 


CHAPTER XVIII 


MR. MARCY’S CANAL 

The twelve men and the one woman on board the 
Dipsey, now lying at anchor in the polar sea, were 
filled with a warming and cheering ardor as they 
began their preparations for the homeward journey, 
although these preparations included what was to all 
of them a very painful piece of work. It was found 
that it would be absolutely necessary to disengage 
themselves from the electric cord which, in all their 
voyaging in these desolate arctic regions, under water 
and above water, had connected them with the works 
of Roland Clewe at Sardis, Xew Jersey. A sufficient 
length of this cord, almost too slight to be called a 
cable, to reach from Cape Tariff to the pole, with a 
margin adequate for all probable emergencies, had 
been placed on board the Dipsey, and it was expected 
that on her return these slender but immensely strong 
wires would be wound up, instead of being let out, and 
so still connect the vessel with Mr. Clewe’s office. 

But the Dipsey had sailed in such devious ways and 
in so many directions that she had laid a great deal of 
the cable upon the bottom of the polar sea, and it 
would be difficult, or perhaps impossible, to sail back 
146 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


over lier previous tracks and take it up again, and 
there was not enough of it left for her to proceed 
southward very far and still keep up her telegraphic 
communication. Consequently it was considered best, 
upon starting southward, that they should cut loose 
from all connection with their friends and the rest of 
the world. They would have to do this anyway in a 
short time. If they left the end of the wire in some 
suitable position on the coast of the polar sea, it might 
prove of subsequent advantage to science, whereas if 
they cut loose when they were submerged in the ocean, 
this cable from Cape Tariff to the pole must always 
be absolutely valueless. It was, therefore, determined 
to build a little house, for which they had the material, 
and place therein a telegraph instrument connected 
with the wire, and provided with one of the Collison 
batteries, which would remain in working order with 
a charge sufficient to last for forty years, and this, with 
a ground-wire run down through the ice to the solid 
earth, might make telegraphic communication pos- 
sible to some subsequent visitor to the pole. 

But, apart from the necessity of giving up connec- 
tion with Sardis, the journey did not seem like such a 
strange and solemn progress through unknown regions 
as the Northern voyage had been. If they could get 
themselves well down into the deep sea at a point 
on the seventieth line of longitude, they would sail 
directly south, with every confidence of emerging 
safely into Baffin Bay. 

The latest telegrams between Sardis and the polar 
sea were composed mostly of messages of the warmest 
friendship and encouragement. If Mr. Clewe and 
Mrs. Raleigh felt any fears as to the success of the 
147 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


first part of the return journey, they showed no signs 
of them, and Sammy never made any reference to his 
wife’s frequently expressed opinion that there was 
good reason to believe that the end of this thing would 
be that the Dipsey , with everybody on board of her, 
would suddenly, by one of those mishaps which no- 
body can prevent, be blown into fine dust. 

Mr. Marcy’s plan was a very simple one. The 
Dipsey carried a great store of explosive appliances of 
various patterns and of the most improved kinds, 
some of them of immense power, and Mr. Marey pro- 
posed that a long line of these should be laid over the 
level ice and then exploded. The ice below them 
would be shivered into atoms, and he believed that 
an open channel might thus be made, through which 
the Dipsey might easily proceed. Then another line 
of explosives would be laid ahead of the vessel, and 
the length of the canal increased. This would be a 
slow method of proceeding, but it was considered a 
sure one. 

As to the progress over the snow and ice of those 
who were to lay the lines of shells, that would be easy 
enough. It had been supposed that it might be neces- 
sary for the party to make overland trips, and for this 
purpose twenty or more electric-motor sledges had 
been provided. These sledges were far superior to 
any drawn by dogs or reindeer. Each one of them, 
mounted on broad runners of aluminium, was provided 
with a small engine, charged at the vessel with elec- 
tricity enough to last a week, and was propelled by 
means of a light metal wheel with sharp points upon 
its outer rim. This wheel was under the fore part of 
the sledge, and revolving rapidly, its points caught in 
148 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


the ice or frozen snow and propelled the sledge at a 
good rate of speed. The wheel could be raised or 
lowered, so that its points should take more or less 
hold of the ice, according as circumstances demanded. 
In descending a declivity it could be raised entirely, 
so that the person on the sledge might coast, and it 
could at any time be brought down hard to act as a 
brake. 

As soon as it was possible to get everything in order, 
a party of six men, on electric sledges, headed by Mr. 
Marcy, started southward over the level ice, carrying 
with them a number of shells, which were placed in a 
long line, and connected by an electric wire with the 
Dipsey. When the party had returned and the shells 
were exploded, the most sanguine anticipations of Mr. 
Marcy were realized. A magnificent canal three miles 
long lay open to the south. 

How the anchor of the Dipsey was weighed, and our 
party bade farewell to the polar sea. The great ball 
buoy, with its tall pole and weather-vane, floated 
proudly over the northern end of the earth’s axis. 
The little telegraph-house was all in order, and made 
as secure as possible, and under it the Dipsey people 
placed a store of provisions, leaving a note in several 
languages to show what they had done. 

“If the whale wants to come ashore to get somethin’ 
to eat and send a message, why, here’s his chance ! ” 
said Sammy. “But it strikes me that if any human 
beings ever reach this pole again, they won’t come 
the way we came, and they’ll not see this little house, 
for it won’t take many snow-storms— even if they are 
no worse than some of those we have seen— to cover it 
up out o’ sight.” 


149 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


“I don’t believe the slightest good will ever result 
on account of leaving this instrument here,” said Mr. 
Gibbs, “but it seemed the right thing to do, and I 
would not be satisfied to go away and leave the useless 
end of the cable in these regions. We will set up the 
highest rod we have by the little house, and then we 
can do no more.” 

When the Dipsey started, everybody on board looked 
over the stern to see if they could catch a glimpse of 
their old companion, the whale. Nearly all of them 
were sorry that it was necessary to go away and desert 
this living being in his lonely solitude. They had not 
entered the canal when they saw the whale. Two tall 
farewell spouts rose into the air, and then his tail with 
its damaged fluke was lifted aloft and waved in a sort 
of gigantic adieu. Cheers and shouts of good-by came 
from the Dipsey , and the whale disappeared from their 
sight. 

“I hope he won’t come up under us,” said Mrs. 
Block. “But I don’t believe he will do that. He 
always kept at a respectful distance, and as long as 
we are goin’ to sail in a canal, I wouldn’t mind in the 
least if he followed us. But as for goin’ under water 
with him— I don’t want anybody to speak of it.” 

Our exploring party now found their arctic life 
much more interesting than it had lately been, for, 
from time to time, they were all enabled to leave the 
vessel and travel, if not upon solid land, upon very 
solid ice. The Dipsey carried several small boats, and 
even Sarah Block frequently landed and took a trip 
upon a motor sledge. Sometimes the ice was rough, 
or the frozen snow was piled up into hillocks, and in 
such cases it was easy enough to walk and draw the 
150 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


light sledges j but as a general thing the people on the 
sledges were able to travel rapidly and pleasantly. 
The scenery was rather monotonous, with its everlast- 
ing stretches of ice and snow, but in the far distance 
the mountains loomed up in the beautiful colors given 
them by an arctic atmosphere, and the rays of the sun 
still brightened the landscape at all hours. Occa- 
sionally animals, supposed to be arctic foxes, were 
seen at a great distance, and there were those in the 
company who declared that they had caught sight of 
a bear. But hunting was not encouraged. The party 
had no need of fresh meat, and there was important 
work to be done which should not be interfered with 
by sporting expeditions. 

There were days of slow progress, but of varied and 
often exciting experiences, for sometimes the line of 
Mr. Marcy’s canal lay through high masses of ice, and 
here the necessary blasting was often of a very star- 
tling character. They expected to cease their over- 
land journey before they reached the mountains, which 
on the south and west were piled up much nearer to 
them than those in other quarters, but they were sur- 
prised to find their way stopped much sooner than 
they had expected it would be by masses of icebergs, 
which stood up in front of them out of the snowy 
plain. 

When they were within a few miles of these glitter- 
ing eminences they ceased further operations and held 
a council. It was perfectly possible to blow a great 
hole in the ice and descend into the sea at this 
point, but they much preferred going farther south 
before beginning their submarine voyage. To the 
eastward of the icebergs they could see with their 
151 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


glasses great patches of open water, and this would 
have prevented the making of a canal around the ice- 
bergs, for it would have been impossible to survey the 
route on sledges or to lay the line of bombs. 

A good deal of discussion followed, during which 
Captain Hubbell strongly urged the plan of breaking 
a path to the open water, and finding out what could 
be done in the way of sailing south in regular nauti- 
cal fashion. If the Dipsey could continue her voyage 
above water he was in favor of her doing it, but even 
Captain Jim Hubbell could give no good reason for 
believing that if the vessel got into the open water the 
party would not be obliged to go into winter quarters 
in these icy regions, for in a very few weeks the arctic 
winter would be upon them. Once under the water, 
they would not care whether it was light or dark, but 
in the upper air it would be quite another thing. 

So Captain Hubbell’s plan was given up, but it was 
generally agreed that it would be a very wise thing, 
before they took any further steps, to ascend one of 
the icebergs in front of them and see what was on 
the other side. 

The mountain-climbing party consisted of Mr. 
Gibbs, Mr. Marcy, and three of the most active of the 
men. Sammy Block wanted to go with them, but his 
wife would not allow him to do it. 

“You can take possession of poles, Sammy,” said 
she, “for that is the thing you are good at, but when 
it comes to slidin’ down icebergs on the small of 
your back, you are out of place. If I get that 
house that Mr. Clewe lives in now, but which he is 
goin’ to give up when he gets married, I don’t want 
to live there alone. I can’t think of nothin’ dolefuler 


152 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


than a widow with a polar rheumatism, and that’s 
what I’m pretty sure I’m goin’ to have.” 

The ascent of the nearest iceberg was not such a 
difficult piece of work as it would have been in the 
days when Sammy Block and Captain Hubbell were 
boys. The climbers wore ice-shoes with suckers on 
the soles, similar to those with which the feet of flies 
are furnished, so that it was almost impossible for 
them to slip. When they came to a sloping surface, 
where it was too steep for them to climb, they made 
use of a motor sledge furnished with a wheel different 
from the others. Instead of points, this wheel had 
on its outer rim a series of suckers, like those 
upon the soles of the shoes of the party. As the 
wheel, which was of extraordinary strength, revolved, 
it held its rim tightly to whatever surface it was 
pressed against, without reference to the angle of said 
surface. In 1941, with such a sledge, Martin Gallinet, 
a Swiss guide, ascended seventy-five feet of a perpen- 
dicular rock face on Monte Rosa. The sledge, slowly 
propelled by its wheel, went up the face of the rock 
as if it had been a fly climbing up a pane of glass, and 
Gallinet, suspended below this sledge by a strap under 
his arms, was hauled to the top of the precipice. 

It was not necessary to climb any such precipices in 
ascending an iceberg, but there were some steep 
slopes, and up these the party were safely carried? 
one by one, by what they called their fly-foot sledge. 

After an hour or two of climbing, our party safely 
reached the topmost point of the iceberg, and began 
to gaze about them. They soon found that beyond 
them there were other peaks and pinnacles, and that 
it would have been difficult to make a circuit which 


153 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


would enable them to continue Mr. Marcy’s plan of a 
canal along the level ice. Far beyond them, to the 
south, ice-hills and ice-mountains were scattered here 
and there. 

Suddenly Mr. Gibbs gave a shout of surprise. “I 
have been here before ! ” said he. 

“Of course you have,” replied Mr. Marcy. “This is 
Lake Shiver. Don’t you see, away over there on the 
other side of the open water below us, that little dark 
spot in the icy wall ? That is the frozen polar bear. 
Take your glass and see if I am not right.” 


154 


CHAPTER XIX 

THE ICY GATEWAY 

When Mr. Gibbs and his party returned to the Dipsey , 
after descending the iceberg, their report created a 
lively sensation. 

“ Why, it’s like goin’ home,” said Mrs. Block. “ Per- 
haps I may find my shoes.” 

It was not a very strange thing that they should 
have again met with this little ice-locked lake, for 
they had endeavored to return by a route as directly 
south as the other had been directly north. But no 
one had expected to see the lake again, and they were 
not only surprised, but pleased and encouraged. Here 
was a spot where they knew the water was deep enough 
for perfectly safe submarine navigation, and if they 
could start here under the ice they would feel quite 
sure that they would meet with no obstacles on the 
rest of their voyage. 

As there was no possible entrance to this lake from 
the point where the Dipsey now lay at the end of 
her canal, Sammy proposed that they should make a 
descent into the water at the place where they were, 
if, after making soundings, they should find the depth 
155 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


sufficient. Then they might proceed southward as 
well as if they should start from Lake Shiver. 

But this did not suit Mr. Gibbs. He had a very 
strong desire to reach the waters of the little lake, 
because he knew that at their bottom lay the tele- 
graphic cable which he had been obliged to abandon, 
and he had thought that he might be able to raise this 
cable and reestablish telegraphic communication with 
Cape Tariff and Hew Jersey. 

Sammy thought that Mr. Gibbs’s desire could be 
accomplished by sinking into the water in which they 
now lay and sailing under the icebergs to the lake. 
But Mr. Gibbs did not favor this. He was afraid to 
go under the icebergs. To be sure, they had already 
sailed under one of them when the Dipsey had made 
her way northward from the lake, but they had found 
that the depth of water varied very much in different 
places, and the icebergs in front of them might be 
heavier, and therefore more deeply sunken, than those 
which they had previously passed under. 

If it were possible to extend their canal to Lake 
Shiver, Mr. Gibbs wanted to do it, but if they should 
fail in this, then, of course, they would be obliged to 
go down at this or some adjacent spot. 

“It’s all very well,” said Captain Hubbell, who was 
a little depressed in spirits because the time was 
rapidly approaching when he would no longer com- 
mand the vessel, “but it’s one thing to blow a canal 
through fields of flat ice, and another to make it all 
the way through an iceberg ; but if you think you can 
do it, I am content. I’d like to sail above water just 
as far as we can go.” 

Mr. Gibbs had been studying the situation, and some 
156 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


ideas relating to tlie solution of the problem before 
him were forming themselves in his mind. At last 
he hit upon a plan which he thought might open the 
waters of Lake Shiver to the Dipsey, and as it would 
not take very long to test the value of his scheme, it 
was determined to make the experiment. 

There were but few on board who did not know that 
if a needle were inserted into the upper part of a large 
block of ice, and were then driven smartly into it, the 
ice would split. Upon this fact Mr. Gibbs based his 
theory of making an entrance to the lake. 

A climbing party, larger than the previous one, set 
out for the iceberg, carrying with them, on several 
sledges, a long and heavy iron rod, which was a piece 
of the extra machinery on the Dipsey , and some 
explosives of a special kind. 

When the iceberg had been reached, several of the 
party ascended with a hoisting apparatus, and with 
this the rod was hauled to the top and set up perpen- 
dicularly on a central spot at the summit of the ice- 
berg, the pointed end downward, and a bomb of great 
power fastened to its upper end. This bomb was one 
designed to exert its whole explosive power in one 
direction, and it was now so placed that this force would 
be exerted downward. When all was ready, the elec- 
tric-wire attachment to the bomb was carried down 
the iceberg and carefully laid on the ice as the party 
returned to the Dipsey. 

Everybody, of course, was greatly interested in this 
experiment. The vessel was at least two miles from 
the iceberg, but in the clear atmosphere the glittering 
eminence could be plainly seen, and, with a glass, the 
great iron rod standing high up on its peak was per- 
157 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


fectly visible. All were on deck when Mr. Gibbs 
stood ready to discharge the bomb on top of the rod, 
and all eyes were fixed upon the iceberg. 

There was an explosion,— not very loud, even con- 
sidering the distance,— and those who had glasses saw 
the rod disappear downward. Then a strange grating 
groan came over the snow-white plain, and the great 
iceberg was seen to split in half, its two peaks falling 
apart from each other. The most distant of the two 
great sections toppled far backward, and, with a great 
crash, turned entirely over, its upper part being heavier 
than its base. It struck an iceberg behind it, slid 
upon the level ice below, crashed through this, and 
sank out of sight. Then it was seen slowly to rise 
again, but this time with its base uppermost. The 
other and nearest section, fell against an adjacent ice- 
berg, where it remained leaning for some minutes, but 
soon assumed an erect position. The line of cleavage 
had not been perpendicular, and the greater part of 
the base of the original iceberg remained upon the 
nearer section. 

When the scene of destruction had been thoroughly 
surveyed from the deck of the Dipsey , volunteers were 
called for to go and investigate the condition of affairs 
near the broken iceberg. Four men, including Mr. 
Gibbs and Mr. Marcy, went out upon this errand— a 
dangerous one, for they did not know how far the ice 
in their direction might have been shattered or weak- 
ened by the wreck of the iceberg. They found that 
little or no damage had been done to the ice between 
them and the nearer portion of the berg, and, pursu- 
ing an eastward course on their sledges, they were 
enabled to look around this lofty mass and see a body 
158 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


of open water in the vicinity of the more distant 
section, almost covered with floating ice. Pressing 
forward still farther eastward, and going as far south 
as they dared, they were enabled at last to see that 
the two portions of the original iceberg were floating 
at a considerable distance from each other, and that, 
therefore, there was nothing to prevent the existence 
of an open passage between them into the lake. 

When the party returned with this report work 
was suspended, but the next day blasting parties went 
out. The canal was extended to the base of the nearer 
iceberg, a small boat was rowed around it, and after a 
careful survey it was found that unless the sections of 
the iceberg moved together there was plenty of room 
for the Dipsey to pass between them. 

W r hen the small boat and the sledges had returned 
to the vessel, and everything was prepared for the 
start along the canal and into the lake, one of the 
men came to Captain Hubbell and reported that 
Bovinski was absent. For one brief moment a hope 
arose in the soul of Samuel Block that this man might 
have fallen overboard and floated under the ice, but 
he was not allowed to entertain this pleasant thought. 
Mr. Marcy had seized a glass, and with it was sweeping 
the icy plain in all directions. 

“ Hello !” he cried. “Some one come here! Do 
you see that moving speck off there to the north? I 
believe that is the scoundrel.” 

Several glasses were now directed to the spot. 

“It is the Pole ! ” cried Sammy. “He has stolen a 
sledge and is running away ! ” 

“' Where on earth can he be running to ? ” exclaimed 
Mr. Gibbs. “The man is insane ! ” 


159 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


Mr. Marcy said nothing. His motor sledge, a very 
fine one, furnished with an unusually large wheel, was 
still on the deck. He rushed toward it. 

“I am going after him ! ” he shouted. “Let some- 
body come with me. He’s up to mischief ! He must 
not get away ! ” 

“Mischief!” exclaimed Mr. Gibbs. S “I don’t see 
what mischief he can do. He can’t live out here with- 
out shelter ; he’ll be dead before morning.” 

“Not he,” cried Sammy. “He’s a born devil, with 
a dozen lives ! Take a gun with you, Mr. Marcy, and 
shoot him if you can’t catch him ! ” 

Mr. Marcy took no gun— he had no time to stop for 
that. In a few moments he was on the ice with his 
sledge, then away he went at full speed toward the 
distant moving black object. 

Two men were soon following Mr. Marcy, but they 
were a long way behind him, for their sledges did not 
carry them at the speed with which he was flying 
over the ice and snow. 

It was not long before Rovinski discovered that he 
was pursued, and, frequently turning his head back- 
ward, he saw that the foremost sledge was gaining 
upon him, but, crouching as low as he could to avoid 
a rifle-shot, he kept on his way. 

But he could not help turning his head every now 
and then, and at one of these moments his sledge 
struck a projecting piece of ice and was suddenly 
overturned. Rovinski rolled out on the hard snow, 
and the propelling-wheel revolved rapidly in the air. 
The Pole gathered himself up quickly and turned his 
sledge back into its proper position. He did this in 
such haste that he forgot that the wheel was still re- 
160 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


volving, and, therefore, was utterly unprepared to see 
the sledge start away at a great speed, leaving him 
standing on the snow, totally overwhelmed by aston- 
ishment and rage. 

Marcy was near enough to view this catastrophe, 
and he stopped his sledge and burst out laughing. 
Now that the fellow was secure, Marcy decided to wait 
for his companions. When the others had reached 
him, the three proceeded toward Rovinski, who was 
standing facing them and waiting. As soon as they 
came within speaking distance he shouted : 

“Stop where you are ! I have a pistol, and I will 
shoot you in turn if you come any nearer. I am a 
free man ! I have a right to go where I please. I 
have lost my sledge, but I can walk. Go back and 
tell your masters I have left their service.” 

Mr. Marcy reflected a moment. He was armed, 
but it was with a very peculiar weapon, intended for 
use on shipboard in case of mutinous disturbances. 
It was a pistol with a short range, carrying an am- 
monia shell. If he could get near enough to Rovinski, 
he could settle his business very quickly $ but he be- 
lieved that the pistol carried by the Pole was of the 
ordinary kind, and dangerous. 

Something must be done immediately. It was very 
cold. They must soon return to the vessel. Suddenly, 
without a word, Mr. Marcy started his sledge forward 
at its utmost speed. The Pole gave a loud cry and 
raised his right hand, in which he held a heavy pistol. 
For some minutes he had been standing, his glove off, 
with this pistol clasped in his hand. He was so excited 
that he had entirely forgotten the intense coldness of 
the air. He attempted to aim the pistol and to curl 
161 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


his forefinger around the trigger, but his hand and 
wrist were stiff, his fingers were stiff. His pistol- 
barrel pointed at an angle downward. He had no 
power to straighten it or to pull the trigger. Stand- 
ing thus, his face white with the rage of impotence, 
and his raised hand shaking as if it had been palsied, 
he was struck full in the face with the shell from 
Marcy’s wide -mouthed pistol. The brittle capsule 
burst, and in a second, insensible from the fumes of 
the powerful ammonia it contained, Rovinski fell fiat 
upon the snow. 

When the Pole had been taken back to the vessel, 
and had been confined below, Mr. Gibbs, utterly un- 
able to comprehend the motives of the man in thus 
rushing off to die alone amid the rigors of the polar 
regions, went down to talk to him. At first Rovinski 
refused to make iny answers to the questions put to 
him, but at last, apparently enraged by the imputa- 
tion that he must be a weak-minded, almost idiotic 
man to behave himself in such an imbecile fashion, he 
suddenly blazed out. 

“Imbecile ! ” he cried. “Weak-minded ! If it had 
not been for that accursed sledge, I would have shown 
you what sort of an imbecile I am. I can’t get away 
now, and I will tell you how I would have been an 
idiot. I would have gone back to the pole, at least 
to the little house where, like a fool, you left the end 
of your cable open to me— open to anybody on board 
who might be brave enough to take advantage of your 
imbecility. I had food enough with me to last until 
I got back to the pole, and I knew of the provisions 
which you left there. Pong, long before you ever 
reached Cape Tariff, and before your master was ready 
162 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


to announce your discoveries to the world, I would 
have been using your cable. I would have been an- 
nouncing my discoveries, not in a cipher, but in plain 
words, not to Sardis, but to the Observatory at St. 
Petersburg. I would have proclaimed the discovery 
of the pole, I would have told of your observations 
and your experiments ; for I am a man of science— I 
know these things. I would have had the honor and 
the glory. The north pole would have been Rovin- 
ski’s Pole ; that open sea would have been Rovinski’s 
Sea. All you might have said afterwards would have 
amounted to nothing. It would have been an old story. 
I would have announced it long before. The glory 
would have been mine— mine for all ages to come.” 

“But, you foolish man,’ 7 exclaimed Mr. Gibbs, “you 
would have perished up there— no fire, no shelter but 
that cabin, and very little food. Even if, kept warm 
and alive by your excitement and ambition, you had 
been able to send one message, you would have per- 
ished soon afterwards.” 

“What of that?” said Rovinski. “I would have 
sent my message. I would have told how the north 
pole was found. The glory and the honor would have 
been mine.” 

When Mr. Gibbs related what was said at this 
interview, Sammy remarked that it was a great pity 
to interfere with ambition like that, and Sarah ac- 
knowledged to her husband, but to him only, that she 
had never felt her heart sink as it had sunk when she 
saw Mr. Marcy coming back with that black-faced and 
black-hearted Pole with him. 

“I felt sure,” said she, “that we had got rid of him, 
and that after this we would not be a party of thirteen. 

163 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 

It does seem to me as if it is wicked to take such a 
creature back to civilized people. It’s like carrying 
diseases about in your clothes, as people used to do in 
olden times.” 

“Well,” said Sammy, “if we could fumigate this 
vessel, and feel sure that only the bad germs would 
shrivel, I’d be in favor of doin’ it.” 

In less than two hours after the return of Mr. Marcy 
with his prisoner, the Dipsey started along the recently 
made canal, carefully rounded the nearer portion of 
the broken iceberg, and slowly sailed between the two 
upright sections. These were sufficiently far apart to 
afford a perfectly safe passage, but the hearts of those 
who gazed up on their shining, precipitous sides were 
filled with a chilling horror, for if a wind had sud- 
denly sprung up, these two great sections of the icy 
mountain might have come together, cracking the 
Dipsey as if it had been a nut. 

But no wind sprang up. The icebergs remained as 
motionless as if they had been anchored, and the Dipsey 
entered safely the harboring waters of Lake Shiver. 


164 


CHAPTER XX 


“THAT IS HOW I LOVE YOU ” 

For several days the subject of the great perforation 
made by the automatic shell was not mentioned be- 
tween Margaret and Roland. This troubled her a great 
deal, for she thoroughly understood her lover’s mind, 
and she knew that he had something important to say 
to her, but was waiting until he had fully elaborated 
his intended statement. She said nothing about it, 
because it was impossible for her to do so. It made 
her feel sick even to think of it, and yet she was 
thinking of it all the time. 

At last he came to her one morning, his face pale 
and serious. She knew, the moment her eyes fell 
upon him, that he had come to tell her something, and 
knew what it was he had to tell. 

“ Margaret,” said he, beginning to speak as soon as 
he had seated himself, “I have made up my mind 
about that shaft. It would be absolutely wicked if I 
were not to go down to the bottom and see what is 
there. I have discovered something, —something won- 
derful,— and I do not know what it is. I can form no 
ideas about it— there is positively nothing on which I 
can base a theory. I have done my best to solve this 
165 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


problem without going down, but my telescope reveals 
nothing, my camera shows me nothing at all.” 

She sat perfectly quiet, pallid and listening. 

“I have thought over this thing by day and by 
night,” he continued, “but the conclusion forces itself 
upon me, steadily and irresistibly, that it is my duty 
to descend that shaft. I have carefully considered 
everything, positively everything, connected with the 
safety of such a descent. The air in the cavity where 
my shell now rests is perfectly good. I have tested it. 
The temperature is simply warm, and there is no 
danger of quicksands or anything of that sort, for my 
shell still rests as immovable as when I first saw it 
below the bottom of the shaft. 

“As to the distance I should have to descend, when 
you come to consider it, it is nothing. What is four- 
teen miles in a tunnel through a mountain f Some of 
those on the Great Straight-cut Pacific Railroad are 
forty miles in length, and trains run backward and for- 
ward every day without any one considering the 
danger ; and yet there is really more danger from one 
of those tunnels caving in than in my perpendicular 
shaft, where caving in is almost impossible. 

“As to the danger which attends so great a descent, 
I have thoroughly provided against that. In fact, I 
do not see, if I carry out my plans, how there could be 
any danger, more than constantly surrounds us, no 
matter what we are doing. In the first place, we 
should not think of that great depth. If a man fell 
down any one of the deep shafts in our silver-mines, 
he would be as thoroughly deprived of life as if he 
should fall down my shaft. But to fall down mine— 
and I want you to consider this, Margaret, and thor- 
166 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


oughly understand it— would be almost impossible. 
I have planned out all the machinery and appliances 
which would be necessary, and I want to describe 
them to you, and then, I am sure, you will see for 
yourself that the element of danger is more fully 
eliminated than if I should row you on the lake in a 
little boat.” 

She sat quiet, still pale, still listening, her eyes fixed 
upon him. 

“I have devised a car,” he said, “in which I can sit 
comfortably and smoke my cigar while I make the 
descent. This, at the easy and steady rate at which 
my engines would move, would occupy less than three 
hours. I could go a good deal faster if I wanted to, 
but this would be fast enough. Think of that— four- 
teen miles in three hours ! It would be considered 
very slow and easy travelling on the surface of the 
earth. This car would be suspended by a double chain 
of the very best toughened steel, which would be strong 
enough to hold ten cars the weight of mine. The 
windlass would be moved by an electric engine of 
sufficient power to do twenty times the work I should 
require of it, but in order to make everything what 
might be called supersafe, there would be attached to 
the car another double chain, similar to the first, and 
this would be wound upon another windlass, and 
worked by another engine, as powerful as the first 
one. Thus, even if one of these double chains should 
break,— an accident almost impossible,— or if anything 
should happen to one of these engines, there would be 
another engine more than sufficient for the work. 
The top of this car would be conical, ending in a 
sharp point, and made of steel, so that if any fragment 
167 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


in the wall of the tunnel should become dislodged and 
fall, it would glance from this roof and fall between 
the side of the car and the inner surface of the shaft ; 
for the car is to be only twenty-six inches in diameter, 
— quite wide enough for my purpose, — and this would 
leave at least ten inches of space all around the car. 

“But, as I have said before, the sides of this tunnel 
are hard and smooth. The substances of which they 
are composed have been pressed together by a tre- 
mendous force. It is as unlikely that anything should 
fall from them as that particles should drop from the 
inside of a rifle-barrel. 

“I admit, Margaret, that this proposed journey into 
the depths of the earth is a very peculiar one, but, 
after all, it is comparatively an easy and safe per- 
formance when compared to other things that men 
have done. The mountain-climbers of our fathers’ 
time, who used to ascend the highest peaks with noth- 
ing but spiked shoes and sharpened poles, ran far 
more danger than would be met by one who would 
descend such a shaft as mine. 

“And then, Margaret, think of what our friends on 
board the Dipsey have been and are doing ! Think of 
the hundreds of miles they have travelled through the 
unknown depths of the sea ! Their expedition was 
fifty times as hazardous as the trip of a few hours 
which I propose.” 

Now Margaret spoke : 

“But I am not engaged to be married to Samuel 
Block, to Mr. Gibbs, or to any of the rest of them.” 

He drew his chair closer to her, and he took both 
of her hands in his own. He held them as if they had 
been two lifeless things. 


168 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


“Margaret,” lie said, “you know I love you, and—” 

“Yes,” she interrupted, “but I know that you love 
science more.” 

“Not at all,” said he, “and I am going to show you 
how greatly mistaken you are. Tell me not to go 
down that shaft, tell me to live on without ever know- 
ing what it is I have discovered, tell me to explode 
bombs in that great hole until I have blocked it up, 
and I will obey you. That is how I love you, Mar- 
garet.” 

She gazed into his eyes, and her hands, from merely 
lifeless things, became infused with a gentle warmth ; 
they moved as if they might return the clasp in which 
they were held. But she did not speak, she simply 
looked at him, and he patiently waited. Suddenly 
she rose to her feet, withdrawing her hands from his 
hold as if he had hurt her. 

“Roland,” she exclaimed, “you think you know all 
that is in my heart, but you do not. You know it is 
filled with dread, with horror, with a sickening fear, 
but it holds more than that. It holds a love for you 
which is stronger than any fear or horror or dread. 
Roland, you must go down that shaft, you must know 
the great discovery you have made. Even if you 
should never be able to come back to earth again, you 
must die knowing what it is. That is how I love 
you ! ” 

Roland quickly made a step forward, but she moved 
back as if she were about to seat herself again. 
Suddenly her knees bent beneath her, and, before he 
could touch her, she had fallen over on her side and 
lay senseless on the floor. 


169 


CHAPTER XXI 


THE CAYE OF LIGHT 

Margaret was put into the charge of her faithful 
housekeeper, and Poland did not see her again until 
the evening. As she met him she began immediately 
to talk upon some unimportant subject, and there was 
that in her face which told him that it was her desire 
that the great thought which filled both their minds 
should not be the subject of their conversation. She 
told him she was going to the sea-shore for a short 
time. She needed a change, and she would go the 
next day. He understood her perfectly, and they dis- 
cussed various matters of business connected with the 
works. She said nothing about the time of her re- 
turn, and he did not allude to it. 

On the day that Margaret left Sardis, Roland began 
his preparations for descending the shaft. He had so 
thoroughly considered the machinery and appliances 
necessary for the undertaking, and had worked out all 
his plans in such detail, in his mind and upon paper, 
that he knew exactly what he wanted to do. His 
orders for the great length of chain exhausted the 
stock of several manufactories, and the engines he 
obtained were even more powerful than he had in- 
170 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


tended them to be ; but these he could procure im- 
mediately, and for smaller ones he would have been, 
obliged to wait. 

The circular car which was intended to move up 
and down the shaft, and the peculiar machinery con- 
nected with it, with the hoisting apparatus, were all 
made in his works. His skilled artisans labored 
steadily day and night. 

It was ten days before he was ready to make his 
descent. Margaret was still at the sea-shore. They 
had written to each other frequently, but neither had 
made mention of the great shaft. Even when he was 
ready to go down, he said nothing to any one of any 
immediate intention of descending. There was a mas- 
sive door which covered the mouth of the pit. This 
he ordered locked, and went away. 

The next morning he walked into the building a 
little earlier than was his custom, called for the en- 
gineers, and for Mr. Bryce, who was to take charge of 
everything connected with the descent, and announced 
that he was going down as soon as preparations could 
be made. 

Mr. Bryce and the men who were to assist him were 
very serious. They said nothing that was not neces- 
sary. If their employer had been any other man than 
Roland Clewe, it is possible they might have remon- 
strated with him. But they knew him, and they said 
and did nothing more than was their duty. 

The door of the shaft was removed, the car which 
had hung high above it was lowered to the mouth of 
the opening, and Roland stepped within it and seated 
himself. Above him and around him were placed 
geological tools and instruments of many kinds, a 
171 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


lantern, food and drink— everything, in fact, which 
he could possibly be presumed to need upon this ex- 
traordinary journey. A telephone was at his side by 
which he could communicate at any time with the 
surface of the earth. There were electric bells. There 
was everything to make his expedition safe and prof- 
itable. When he gave the word to start the engines, 
there were no ceremonies, and nothing was said out 
of the common. 

When the conical top of the car had descended 
below the surface, a steel grating, with orifices for the 
passage of the chains, was let down over the mouth of 
the shaft, and the downward journey was begun. In 
the floor of the car were grated openings, through 
which Clewe could look downward. But although the 
shaft below him was brilliantly illuminated by electric 
lights placed under the car, it did not frighten him or 
make him dizzy to look down, for the aperture did 
not appear to be very far below him. The upper 
part of the car was partially open, and bright lights 
shone upon the sides of the shaft. 

As he slowly descended, he could see the various 
strata appearing and disappearing in the order in 
which he knew them. Not far below the surface he 
passed cavities which he believed had held water, but 
there was no water in them now. He had expected 
these, and had feared that upon their edges there 
might be loosened patches of rock or soil, but every- 
thing seemed tightly packed and hard. If anything 
had been loosened, it had gone down already. 

Down, down he went until he came to the eternal 
rocks, where the inside of the shaft was polished as if 
it had been made of glass. It became warmer and 
172 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


warmer, but he knew that the heat would soon de- 
crease. The character of the rocks changed, and he 
studied them as he went down, and continually made 
notes. 

After a time the polished rocky sides of the shaft 
grew to be of a solemn sameness. Clewe ceased to 
take notes. He lighted a cigar and smoked. He 
tried to quietly imagine what he would come to when 
he got to the bottom. It would be some sort of a cave 
into which his shell had made an opening. He won- 
dered what sort of a cave it would be, and how high 
the roof of it was from the bottom. He wondered if 
his gardener had remembered what he had told him 
about the flower-beds in front of his house. He 
wanted certain changes made which Margaret had 
suggested. He tried to keep his mind on the flower- 
beds, but it drifted away to the cave below. He 
began to wonder if he would come to some under- 
ground body of water where he would be drowned. 
But he knew that was a silly thought. If the shaft 
had gone through subterranean reservoirs, the water 
of these would have run out, and, before they reached 
the bottom of the shaft, would have dissipated into 
mist. 

Down, down he went. He looked at his watch. 
He had been in that car only an hour and a half. 
Was that possible? He had supposed he was almost 
at the bottom. Suddenly he thought of the people 
above, and of the telephone. Why had not some of 
them spoken to him? It was shameful! He in- 
stantly called Bryce, and his heart leaped with joy 
when he heard the familiar voice in his ear. How he 
talked steadily on for more than an hour. He had his 
173 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


gardener called, and lie told him all that he wanted 
done in the flower-beds. He gave many directions in 
regard to the various operations of the works. Things 
had been put back a great deal of late. He hoped 
soon to have everything going on in the ordinary 
way. There were two or three inventions in which 
he took particular interest, and of these he talked at 
great length with Mr. Bryce. Suddenly, in the midst 
of some talk about hollow steel rods, he told Bryce to 
let the engines move faster— there was no reason 
why the car should go so slowly. 

The windlasses moved with a little more rapidity, 
and Clewe now turned and looked at an indicator 
which was placed on the side of the car, a little over 
his head. This instrument showed the depth to which 
he had descended, but he had not looked at it before, 
for if there should be anything which would make 
him nervous, it would be the continual consideration 
of the depth to which he had descended. 

The indicator showed that he had gone down four- 
teen and one eighth miles. Clewe turned and sat 
stiffly in his seat. He glanced down, and saw beneath 
him only an illuminated hole, fading away at the 
bottom. Then he turned to speak to Bryce, but, to 
his surprise, he could think of nothing to say. After 
that he lighted another cigar and sat quietly. 

Some minutes passed,— he did not know how many, 
—and he looked down through the gratings at the 
floor of the car. The electric light streamed down- 
ward through a deep orifice, which did not fade away 
and end in nothing. It ended in something dark and 
glittering. Then, as he came nearer and nearer to 
this glittering thing, he saw that it was his automatic 
174 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


shell, lying on its side, but he could see only a part of 
it through the opening of the bottom of the shaft 
which he was descending. In an instant, as it seemed 
to him, the car emerged from the narrow shaft, and 
he seemed to be hanging in the air— at least, there was 
nothing he could see except that great shell, lying 
some forty feet below him. But it was impossible 
that the shell should be lying on the air ! He rang 
to stop the car. 

“ Anything the matter?” cried Bryce, almost at the 
same instant. 

“ Nothing at all,” Clewe replied. “It’s all right. I 
am near the bottom.” 

In a state of the highest nervous excitement, Clewe 
gazed about him. He was no longer in a shaft. But 
where was he ? Look out on what side he would, he 
saw nothing but the light going out from his lamps, 
but which seemed to extend indefinitely all about 
him. There seemed to be no limit to his vision in 
any direction. Then he leaned over the side of his 
car and looked downward. There was the great shell 
directly under him, but under it and around it, ex- 
tending as far beneath it as it extended in every other 
direction, was the light from his own lamps ; and yet 
that great shell, weighing many tons, lay as if it 
rested upon the solid ground ! 

After a few moments Clewe shut his eyes. They 
pained him. Something seemed to be coming into 
them, like a fine frost in a winter wind. Then he 
called to Bryce to let the car descend very slowly. 
It went down, down, gradually approaching the great 
shell. When the bottom of the car was within two 
feet of it, Clewe rang to stop. He looked down at the 
175 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


complicated machine he had worked upon so long, 
with something like a feeling of affection. This he 
knew— it was his own. Looking upon its familiar 
form, he felt that he had a companion in this region 
of unreality. 

Pushing back the sliding door of the car, Clewe sat 
upon the bottom and cautiously put out his feet and 
legs, lowering them until they touched the shell. It 
was firm and solid. Although he knew it must be so, 
the immovability of the great mass of iron gave him a 
sudden shock of mysterious fear. How could it be 
immovable when there was nothing under it ? 

But he must get out of that car— he must explore, 
he must find out. There certainly could be no danger, 
so long as he could cling to his shell. 

He now cautiously got out of the car and let himself 
down upon the shell. It was not a pleasant surface 
to stand upon, being uneven, with great spiral ribs, 
and Clewe sat down upon it, clinging to it with his 
hands. Then he leaned over to one side and looked 
beneath him. The shadow of that shell went down, 
down, down, until it made him sick to look at it. He 
drew back quickly, clutched the shell with his arms, 
and shut his eyes. He felt as if he were about to drop 
with it into a measureless depth of atmosphere. 

But he soon raised himself. He had not come down 
here to be frightened, to let his nerves run away with 
him. He had come to find out things. What was it 
that this shell rested upon? Seizing two of the ribs 
with a strong clutch, he let himself hang over the 
sides of the shell until his feet were level with its 
lower side. They touched something hard. He 
pressed them downward. It was very hard. He 
176 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


raised himself and stood upon the substance which 
supported the shell. It was as solid as any rock. He 
looked down and saw his shadow stretching far be- 
neath him. It seemed as if he were standing upon 
petrified air. He put out one foot and he moved a 
little, still holding on to the shell. He walked, as if 
upon solid air, to the foremost end of the long pro- 
jectile. It relieved him to turn his thoughts from 
what was around him to this familiar object. He 
found its conical end shattered and broken. 

After a little he slowly made his way back to the 
other end of the shell, and now his eyes became some- 
what accustomed to the great radiance about him. 
He thought he could perceive here and there faint 
indications of long, nearly horizontal lines— lines of 
different shades of light. Above him, as if it hung in 
the air, was the round, dark hole through which he 
had descended. 

He rose, took his hands from the shell, and made a 
few steps. He trod upon a horizontal surface, but in 
putting one foot forward he felt a slight incline. It 
seemed to him that he was about to slip downward ! 
Instantly he retreated to the shell, and clutched it in 
a sudden frenzy of fear. 

Standing thus, with his eyes still wandering, he heard 
the bell of the telephone ring. Without hesitation he 
mounted the shell and got into the car. Bryce was 
calling him. 

“Come up/ 7 he said. “You have been down there 
long enough. No matter what you have found, it is 
time for you to come up.” 

Roland Clewe was not accustomed to receive com- 
mands, but he instantly closed the sliding door of the 
177 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


car, seated himself, and put his mouth to the tele- 
phone. 

“All right,” he said. “You can haul me up, but go 
very slowly at first.” 

The car rose. When it reached the orifice in the 
top of the cave of light, Clewe heard the conical steel 
top grate slightly as it touched its edge, for it was still 
swinging a little from the motion given to it by his 
entrance, but it soon hung perfectly vertical and went 
silently up the shaft. 


178 


CHAPTER XXII 


clewe’s theory 

Seated in the car, which was steadily ascending the 
great shaft, Roland Clewe took no notice of anything 
about him. He did not look at the brilliantly lighted 
interior of the shaft, he paid no attention to his in- 
struments, he did not consult his watch, nor glance at 
the dial which indicated the distance he had travelled. 
Several times the telephone bell rang, and Bryce 
inquired how he was getting along. But these ques- 
tions he answered as briefly as possible, and sat look- 
ing down at his knees and seeing nothing. 

When he was half-way up he suddenly became con- 
scious that he was very hungry. He hurriedly ate 
some sandwiches and drank some water, and then 
again he gave himself up entirely to mental labor. 
When, at last, the noise of machinery above him and 
the sound of voices aroused him from his abstraction, 
and the car emerged upon the surface of the earth, 
Clewe hastily slid back the door and stepped out. At 
that instant he felt himself encircled by a pair of arms. 
Bryce was near by, and there were other men by 
the engines, but the owner of those arms thought 
nothing of this. 


179 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


“Margaret ! ” cried Clewe, “how came yon here?” 

“I have been here all the time,” she exclaimed, 
“or, at least, nearly all the time.” And as she spoke 
she drew back and looked at him, her eyes full of 
happy tears. “Mr. Bryce telegraphed to me the in- 
stant he knew you were going down, and I was here 
before you had descended half-way.” 

“What ! ” he cried. “And all those messages came 
from you ? ” 

“Nearly all,” she answered. “But tell me, Roland 
—tell me, have you been successful? What have you 
discovered?” 

“I am successful,” he answered. “I have discovered 
everything ! ” 

Mr. Bryce came forward. 

“I will speak to you all very soon,” said Clewe. “I 
can’t tell you anything now. Margaret, let us go. I 
shall want to talk to you directly, but not until I have 
been to my office. I will meet you at your house in a 
very few minutes.” With that he left the building 
and fairly ran to his office. 

A quarter of an hour later Roland entered Mar- 
garet’s library, where she sat awaiting him. He care- 
fully closed the doors and windows. They sat side by 
side upon the sofa. 

“Now, Roland,” she said, “I cannot wait one second 
longer. What is it that you have discovered? ” 

“Margaret,” said he, “I am afraid you will have to 
wait a good many seconds. If I were to tell you 
directly what I have discovered, you would not under- 
stand it. I am the possessor of wonderful facts, but I 
believe also that I am the master of a theory more 
wonderful. The facts I found out when I got to the 
180 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


bottom of the shaft, but the theory I worked out 
coming up.” 

“But give them to me quickly ! ” she cried. “The 
facts first— I can wait for the theory.” 

“No,” he said, “I cannot do it. I must tell you the 
whole thing as I have it arranged in my mind. Now, 
in the first place, you must understand that this earth 
was once a comet.” 

“Oh, bother your astronomy ! I really can’t under- 
stand it. What did you find in the bottom of that 
hole?” 

“You must listen to me,” he said. “You cannot 
comprehend a thing I say if I do not give it to you in 
the proper order. There have been a great many 
theories about comets, but there is only one of them 
in which I have placed any belief. You know that 
as a comet passes around the sun, its tail is always 
pointed away from the sun, so that no matter how 
rapidly the head shall be moving in its orbit, the end 
of the tail— in order to keep its position— must move 
with a rapidity impossible to conceive. If this tail 
were composed of nebulous mist, or anything of that 
sort, it could not keep its position. There is only one 
theory which could account for this position, and that 
is that the head of a comet is a lens and the tail is 
light. The light of the sun passes through the lens 
and streams out into space, forming the tail, which 
does not follow the comet in the inconceivable manner 
generally supposed, but is constantly renewed, always, 
of course, stretching away from the sun ! ” 

“Oh, dear!” ejaculated Margaret. “I have read 
that.” 

“A little patience,” he said. “When I arrived at 
181 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


the bottom of the shaft, I found myself in a cleft, I 
know not how large, made in a vast mass of trans- 
parent substance, hard as the hardest rock, and trans- 
parent as air in the light of my electric lamps. My 
shell rested securely upon this substance. I walked 
upon it. It seemed as if I could see miles below me. 
In my opinion, Margaret, that substance was once the 
head of a comet . 77 

“What is the substance ? 77 she asked hastily. 

“It is a mass of solid diamond ! 77 

Margaret screamed. She could not say one word. 

“Yes , 77 said he, “I believe the whole central portion 
of the earth is one great diamond. When it was 
moving about in its orbit as a comet, the light of the 
sun streamed through this diamond and spread an 
enormous tail out into space. After a time this nu- 
cleus began to burn . 77 

“Burn ! 77 exclaimed Margaret. 

“Yes, the diamond is almost pure carbon. Why 
should it not burn? It burnt and burnt and burnt. 
Ashes formed upon it and encircled it. Still it burnt, 
and when it was entirely covered with its ashes, it 
ceased to be transparent— it ceased to be a comet. It 
became a planet, and revolved in a different orbit. 
Still it burnt within its covering of ashes, and these 
gradually changed to rock, to metal, to everything 
that forms the crust of the earth . 77 

She gazed upon him, entranced. 

“Some parts of this great central mass of carbon 
burn more fiercely than other parts. Some parts do 
not burn at all. In volcanic regions the fires rage. 
Where my great shell went down it does not burn at 
all. Now you have my theory. It is crude and 
182 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


rough, for I have tried to give it to you in as few 
words as possible.” 

“Oh, Roland,” she cried, “it is absurd ! Diamond ! 
Why, people will think you are crazy. You must not 
say such a thing as that to anybody. It is simply 
impossible that the greater part of this earth should 
be an enormous diamond.” 

“Margaret,” he answered, “nothing is impossible. 
The central portion of this earth is composed of some- 
thing. It might just as well be diamond as anything 
else. In fact, if you consider the matter, it is more 
likely to be, because diamond is a very original sub- 
stance. As I have said, it is almost pure carbon. I 
do not intend to say one word of what I have told you 
to any one,— at least, until the matter has been well 
considered,— but I am not afraid of being thought 
crazy. Margaret, will you look at these f ” 

He took from his pocket some shining substances 
resembling glass. Some of them were flat, some 
round ; the largest was as big as a lemon, others were 
smaller fragments of various sizes. 

“These are pieces of the great diamond which were 
broken when the shell struck the bottom of the cave 
in which I found it. I picked them up as I felt my 
way around this shell, when walking upon what 
seemed to me like solid air. I thrust them into my 
pocket, and I would not come to you, Margaret, with 
this story, until I had gone to my office to find out if 
these fragments were really diamond. I tested them. 
Their substance is diamond ! ” 

Half dazed, she took the largest piece in her hand. 
“Roland,” she whispered, “if this is really a dia- 
mond, there is nothing like it known to man ! ” 

183 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


“Nothing, indeed/’ said he. 

She sat staring at the great piece of glowing mineral 
which lay in her hand. Its surface was irregular ; it 
had many faces ; the subdued light from the window 
gave it the appearance of animated water. He felt it 
necessary to speak. 

“Even these little pieces/’ he said, “are most valu- 
able jewels.” 

She still sat silent, looking at the glowing object she 
held. 

“You see, these are not like the stones which are 
found in our diamond-fields,” he said. “Those, most 
likely, were little unconsumed bits of the original 
mass, afterwards gradually forced up from the interior 
in the same way that many metals and minerals are 
forced up, and then rounded and dulled by countless 
ages of grinding and abrasion, due to the action of 
rocks or water.” 

“Roland,” she cried excitedly, “this is riches be- 
yond imagination ! What is common wealth to what 
you have discovered? Every living being on earth 
could—” 

“Ah, Margaret,” he interrupted, “do not let your 
thoughts run that way. If my discovery should be 
put to the use of which you are thinking, it would 
bring poverty, not wealth, to the world, and not a 
diamond on earth would be worth more than a com- 
mon pebble. Everywhere, in civilized countries and 
in barbaric palaces, people would see their riches 
vanish before them as if it had been blighted by the 
touch of an evil magician.” 

She trembled. “And these— are they to be valued 
as common pebbles ? ” 


184 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


“Oh, no / 7 said he. “So long as that great shaft is 
mine, these broken fragments are to ns riches far 
ahead of our wildest imaginations .’ 7 

“Roland / 7 she cried, “are you going down into that 
shaft for more of them ? 77 

“Never, never, never again / 7 he said. “What we 
have here is enough for us, and if I were offered all 
the good that there is in this world, which money 
cannot buy, I would never go down into that cleft 
again. There was one moment when I stood in that 
cave in which an awful terror shot into my soul which 
I shall never be able to forget. In the light of my 
electric lamps, sent through a vast transparent mass, 
I could see nothing, but I could feel. I put out my 
foot, and I found it was upon a sloping surface. In 
another instant I might have slidden— where ? I can- 
not bear to think of it ! 77 

She threw her arms around him and held him 
tightly. 


185 


CHAPTER XXIII 


THE LAST DIVE OF THE “DIPSEY” 

When the engines of the Dipsey had stopped, and she 
was quietly floating upon the smooth surface of Lake 
Shiver, Mr. Gibbs greatly desired to make a connec- 
tion with the telegraphic cable which was stretched 
at the bottom of the ocean beneath him, and to thus 
communicate with Sardis. But when this matter was 
discussed in council, several objections were brought 
against it, the principal one being that the cable could 
not be connected with the Dipsey without destroying 
its connection with the little station near the pole $ 
and although this means of telegraphic communication 
with regions which might never be visited again 
might well be considered as possessing no particular 
value, still it was such a wonderful thing to lay a tele- 
graph line to the pole that it seemed the greatest pity 
in the world to afterwards destroy it. 

The friends of this exploring party had not heard 
from it since it left the polar sea, but there could be 
no harm in making them wait a little longer. If the 
return voyage under the ice should be as successfully 
accomplished as the first submarine cruise, it would 
not be very many days before the Dipsey should arrive 
186 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


at Cape Tariff. She would not proceed so slowly as 
she did when coming north, for now her officers would 
feel that in a measure they knew the course, and, 
moreover, they would not be delayed by the work of 
laying a cable as they progressed. 

So it was agreed that it would be a waste of time 
and labor to stop here and make connection with the 
cable, and preparations were made for a descent to a 
safe depth beneath the surface, when they would start 
southward on their homeward voyage. Mrs. Sarah 
Block, wrapped from head to foot in furs, remained 
on deck as long as her husband would allow her to do 
so. For some time before her eyes had been slowly 
wandering around the edge of that lonely piece of 
water, and it was with an unsatisfied air that she now 
stood gazing from side to side. At last Sammy took 
her by the arm and told her she must go below, for 
they were going to close up the hatchways. 

“Well,” said Sarah, with a sigh, “I suppose I must 
give ’em up. They were the warmest and most com- 
fortable ones I had, and I could have thawed ’em out 
and dried ’em so that they would have been as good 
as ever. I would not mind leavin’ ’em if there was a 
human bein’ in this neighborhood that would wear 
’em. But there ain’t, and it ain’t likely there ever 
will be, and if they are frozen stiff in the ice some- 
where, they may stay here, as good as new, for count- 
less ages ! ” 

Of course, everybody was very happy, now that they 
were returning homeward from a voyage successful 
beyond parallel in history, and even Kovinski was 
beginning to assume an air of gratified anticipation. 

He had been released from his confinement and al- 


187 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


lowed to attend to his duties, but the trust which had 
been placed in him when this kindness had been ex- 
tended to him on a previous occasion was wanting 
now. Everybody knew that he was an unprincipled 
man, and that if he could gain access to the telegraph 
instrument at Cape Tariff he would make trouble for 
the real discoverer of the north pole, so it was agreed 
among the officers of the vessel that the strictest watch 
must be kept on him, and no shore privileges be al- 
lowed him. 

The southward voyage of the Bipsey was an easy 
one and without notable incident, and at last a lookout 
who had been posted at the upper skylight reported 
light from above. This meant that they had reached 
open water south of the frozen regions they had been 
exploring, and that the great submarine voyage, the 
most peculiar ever made by man, was ended. Captain 
Jim Hubbell immediately put on a heavy pea-jacket 
with silver buttons, for as soon as the vessel should 
sail upon the surface of the sea he would be in com- 
mand. 

When the dripping Bipsey rose from the waters of 
the arctic regions, it might have been supposed that 
the people on board of her were emerging into a part 
of the world where they felt perfectly at home. Cape 
Tariff, to which they were bound, was a hundred miles 
away, and was itself a lonely spot, often inaccessible in 
severe weather, and they must make a long and haz- 
ardous voyage from it before they could reach their 
homes ; but by comparison with the absolutely desolate 
and mysterious region they had left, any part of the 
world where there was a possibility of meeting with 
other human beings seemed familiar and homelike. 

188 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


But when the Dipsey was again upon the surface of 
the ocean, when the light of day was shining unob- 
structed upon the bold form of Captain Hubbell as he 
strode upon the upper deck,— being careful not to 
stand still, lest his shoes should freeze fast to the planks 
beneath him,— the party on board were not so well 
satisfied as they expected to be. There was a great 
wind blowing, and the waves were rolling high. Not 
far away, on their starboard bow, a small iceberg, 
tossing like a disabled ship, was surging toward them, 
impelled by a biting blast from the east, and the sea 
was so high that sometimes the spray swept over the 
deck of the vessel, making it impossible for Captain 
Hubbell and the others with him to keep dry. 

Still the captain kept his post and roared out his 
orders, still the Dipsey pressed forward against wind 
and wave. Her engines were strong, her electric gills 
were folded close to her sides, and she seemed to feel 
herself able to contend against the storm, and in this 
point she was heartily seconded by her captain. 

But the other people on board soon began to have 
ideas of a different kind. It seemed to all of them, 
including the officers, that this vessel, not built to en- 
counter very heavy weather, was in danger, and even 
if she should be able to successfully ride out the storm, 
their situation must continue to be a very unpleasant 
one. The Dipsey pitched and tossed and rolled and 
shook herself, and it was the general opinion, below 
decks, that the best thing for her to do would be to 
sink into the quiet depths below the surface, where 
she was perfectly at home, and proceed on her voyage 
to Cape Tariff in the submarine fashion to which she 
was accustomed. 


189 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


It was some time before Captain Hubbell would 
consent to listen to such a proposition as this, but 
when a wave, carrying on its crest a lump of ice about 
the size of a flour-barrel, threw its burden on the 
deck of the vessel, raking it from stem to stern, the 
captain, who had barely been missed by the grating 
missile, agreed that, in a vessel with such a low rail 
and of such defective naval principles, it would be 
better perhaps to sail under the water than on top of 
it, and so he went below, took off his pea-jacket with 
the silver buttons, and retired into private life. The 
Dipsey then sank to a quiet depth and continued her 
course under water, to the great satisfaction of every- 
body on board. 

On a fine, frosty morning, with a strong wind blow- 
ing, although the storm had subsided, the few inhabi- 
tants of the little settlement at Cape Tariff saw in the 
distance a flag floating over the water. The Dipsey 
had risen to the surface some twenty miles from the 
cape, and now came bravely on, Captain Hubbell on 
deck, his silver buttons shining in the sun. The sea 
was rough, but everybody was willing to bear with a 
little discomfort in order to be able to see the point of 
land which was the end of the voyage on the Dipsey— 
to let their eyes rest a s early as possible upon a wreath 
of smoke arising from the habitation of human beings, 
and to catch sight of those human beings themselves. 

As soon as the Dipsey arrived in the harbor, Sammy 
and most of the officers went on shore to open com- 
munication with Sardis. Sarah Block stayed on the 
vessel. She had been on shore when she had arrived 
at Cape Tariff in the Go Lightly , and her disgust with 
the methods of living in that part of the world had 
190 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


been freely expressed. So long as she bad perfectly 
comfortable quarters on board the good ship, she did 
not wish to visit the low huts and extremely close 
quarters in which dwelt the people of the little colony. 
Rovinski also remained on board, but not because he 
wanted to do so. A watch was kept upon him, but 
as the Dipsey was anchored some distance from the 
landing-place, Mr. Marcy was of the opinion that if 
he attempted to swim ashore, it might be well to let 
him do so, for if he should not be benumbed in the 
water into which he would plunge, he would certainly 
be frozen to death as soon as he reached the shore. 

The messages which came from Sardis as soon as 
news had been received of the safe return of the ex- 
plorers were full of hearty congratulations and friendly 
welcome, but they were not very long, and Sammy 
said to Mr. Gibbs that he thought it likely that this 
was one of Mr. Clewe’s busy times. The latter tele- 
graphed that he would send a vessel for them imme- 
diately, and as she was now lying at St. John’s, they 
would not have to wait very long. 

The fact was that the news of the arrival of the 
Dipsey at Cape Tariff had come to Sardis a week after 
Clewe’s descent into the shaft, and he was absorbed, 
body and soul, in his underground discoveries. He 
was not wanting in sympathy, or even affection, for 
the people who had been doing his work, and his in- 
terest in their welfare and their achievements was as 
great as it ever had been, but the ideas and thoughts 
which now occupied his mind were of a character 
which lessened and overshadowed every other object 
of consideration. Most of the messages sent to Cape 
Tariff had come from Margaret Raleigh. 

191 


CHAPTER XXIV 


ROVINSKI COMES TO THE SURFACE 

When Sammy Block and his companion explorers 
had journeyed from Cape Tariff to Sardis, they found 
Roland Clewe ready to tender a most grateful wel- 
come, and to give full and most interested attention 
to the stories of their adventures and to their scientific 
reports. For a time he was willing to allow his own 
great discovery to lie fallow in his mind, and to give 
his whole attention to the wonderful achievement 
which had been made under his direction. 

He had worked out his theory of the formation and 
present constitution of the earth, had written a full 
and complete report of what he had seen and done, 
and was ready, when he thought the proper time had 
arrived, to announce to the world his theories and his 
facts. Moreover, he had sent to several jewellers and 
mineralogists some of the smaller fragments which he 
had picked up in the cave of light, and these special- 
ists, while reporting the material of the specimens 
purest diamond, expressed the greatest surprise at 
their shape and brilliancy. They had evidently not 
been ground or cut, and yet their sharp points and 
glittering surfaces reflected light as if they had been 
in the hands of a diamond-cutter. One of these ex- 


192 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


perts wrote to Clewe asking him if he had been dig- 
ging diamonds with a machine which broke the gems 
to pieces. 

So the soul of Roland Clewe was satisfied. It seemed 
to walk the air as he himself once had trod what 
seemed to him a solid atmosphere. There was now 
nothing that his ambition might point out which 
would induce him to endeavor to climb higher in the 
field of human achievement than the spot on which 
he stood. From this great elevation he was perfectly 
willing to look down and kindly consider the heroic 
performances of those who had reached the pole, and 
who had anchored a buoy on the extreme northern 
point of the earth’s axis. 

Mr. Gibbs’s reports, and those of his assistants, were 
well worked out, and of the greatest value to the 
scientific world, and every one who had made that 
memorable voyage on the Dipsey had stories to tell for 
which editors in every civilized land would have paid 
gold beyond all former precedent. 

But Roland Clewe did not care to say anything to 
the world until he could say everything that he 
wished to say. It had been known that he had sent 
an expedition into Northern waters, but exactly what 
he intended to do had not been known, and what he 
had done had not been communicated even to the 
telegraph operators at Cape Tariff. These had re- 
ceived despatches in cipher from points far away to 
the north, but, while they transmitted them to Sardis, 
they had no idea of their signification. When every- 
thing should be ready to satisfy the learned world, as 
well as the popular mind, the great discovery of the 
pole would be announced. 

193 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


In the meantime there was a suspicion in the jour- 
nalistic world that the man of inventions who lived 
at Sardis, New Jersey, had done something out of the 
common in the North. A party of people, one of them 
a woman, had been taken up there and left there, and 
they had recently been brought back. The general 
opinion was that Clewe had endeavored to found a 
settlement at some point north of Cape Tariff, prob- 
ably for purposes of scientific observation, and that he 
had failed. The stories of these people, however, 
would be interesting, and several reporters made 
visits to Sardis. But they all saw Sammy, and not 
one of them considered his communications worth 
more than a brief paragraph. 

In a week Mr. Gibbs would have finished his 
charts, his meteorological, geological, and geographical 
reports, and a clear, succinct account of the expedi- 
tion, written by Clewe himself from the statements 
of the party, would be ready for publication. 

In the brilliantly lighted sky of discovery which now 
rested, one edge upon Sardis and the other upon the 
pole, there was but one single cloud, and this was 
Rovinski. 

The ambitious and unscrupulous Pole had been the 
source of the greatest trouble and uneasiness since he 
had left Cape Tariff. While there he had found that 
he could not possibly get ashore, and so had kept 
quiet ; but when on board the vessel which had been 
sent to them from St. John’s, he had soon begun to 
talk to the crew, and there seemed to be but one way 
of preventing him from making known what had been 
done by the expedition before its promoters were 
ready for the disclosure, and this was to declare him a 
194 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


maniac, whose utterances were of no value whatever. 
He was put into close confinement, and it was freely 
reported that he had gone crazy while in the arctic 
regions, and that his mind had been filled with all sorts 
of insane notions regarding that part of the world. 

It had been intended to put him in jail on a crimi- 
nal charge, but this would not prevent him from talk- 
ing, and so, when he arrived in Hew Jersey, he was 
sent to an insane asylum, the officers of which were 
not surprised to receive him, for, in their opinion, a 
wilder looking maniac was not to be found within the 
walls of the institution. 

Early on the morning of the day before the world 
was to be electrified by the announcement of the dis- 
covery of the pole, a man named William Cunning- 
ham, employed in the Sardis Works, entered the large 
building which had been devoted to the manufacture 
of the automatic shell, but which had not been used 
of late and had been kept locked. Cunningham was 
the watchman, and had entered to make his usual 
morning rounds. He had scarcely closed the door 
behind him when, looking over toward the engines 
which still stood by the mouth of the shaft made by 
the automatic shell, he was amazed to see that the 
car which had been used by Eoland Clewe in his de- 
scent was not hanging above them. 

Utterly unable to understand this state of affairs, he 
ran to the mouth of the shaft. He found the great 
trap-door which had closed it thrown back, and the 
grating, which had been made to cover the orifice after 
the car had descended, in its place. The engines were 
not moving, and the chain on the windlass of one of 
them appeared not to have been disturbed, but on the 
195 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


other windlass one of the chains had been unwound. 
Cunningham was so astonished that he could not be- 
lieve what he saw. He had been there the night 
before. Everything had been in order, the shaft closed, 
and the trap-door locked. He leaned over the grating 
and looked down. He could see nothing but a black 
hole without any bottom. The man did not look long, 
for it made him dizzy. He turned and ran out of the 
house to call Mr. Bryce. 

Ivan Rovinski was not perhaps a lunatic, but his 
unprincipled ambition had made him so disregard the 
principles of ordinary prudence, when such principles 
stood in his way, that it could not be said that he was 
at all times entirely sane. He understood thoroughly 
why he had been put in an asylum, and it enraged 
him to think that by this course his enemies had ob- 
tained a great advantage over him. Ho matter what 
he might say, it was only necessary to point to the 
fact that he was in a lunatic asylum, or that he had 
just come out of one, to make his utterances of no 
value. 

But to remain in confinement did not suit him at 
all, and, after three days’ residence in the institution 
in which he had been placed, he escaped and made 
his way to a piece of woods about two miles from 
Sardis, where, early that year, he had built himself a 
rude shelter, from which he might go forth at night 
and study, so far as he should be able, the operations 
in the works of Roland Clewe. Having safely reached 
his retreat, he lost no time in sallying forth to spy out 
what was going on at Sardis. 

He was cunning and wary, and a man of infinite 
resource. It was not long before he found out that 
196 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


the polar discovery had not been announced, but he 
also discovered, from listening to the conversations of 
some of the workmen in the village, which he fre- 
quently visited in a guise very unlike his ordinary 
appearance, that something extraordinary had taken 
place in the Sardis Works, of which he had never 
heard. A great shaft had been sunk, the people said, 
by accident. Mr. Clewe had gone down it in a car, and 
it had taken him nearly three hours to get to the 
bottom. ISTobody yet knew what he had discovered, 
but it was supposed to be something very wonderful. 

The night after Rovinski heard this surprising news 
he was in the building which had contained the auto- 
matic shell. As active as a cat, he had entered by an 
upper window. 

Rovinski spent the night in that building. He had 
with him a dark lantern, and he made the most thor- 
ough examination of the machinery at the mouth of 
the shaft. He was a man of great mechanical ability 
and an expert in applied electricity. He understood 
that machinery, with all its complicated arrangements 
and appliances, as well as if he had built it himself. 
In fact, while examining it, he thought of some very 
valuable improvements which might have been made 
in it. He knew that it was an apparatus for lowering 
the car to a great depth, and, climbing into the car, 
he examined everything it contained. Coming down, 
he noticed the grating, and he knew what it was for. 
He looked over the engines and calculated the strength 
of the chains on the windlasses. He took an impres- 
sion of the lock of the trap-door, and when he went 
away in the very early hours of the morning he under- 
stood the apparatus which was intended to lower the 
197 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


car as well as any person who had managed it. He 
knew nothing about the shaft under the great door, 
but this he intended to investigate as thoroughly as 
he had investigated the machinery. 

The next night he entered the building very soon 
after Cunningham had gone his rounds, and he imme- 
diately set to work to prepare for his descent into the 
shaft. He disconnected one of the engines, for he 
sneeringly said to himself that the other one was more 
than sufficient to lower and raise the car. He charged 
and arranged all the batteries, and put in perfect 
working order the mechanism by which Clewe had 
established a connection between the car and the en- 
gines, using one of the chains as a conductor, so that 
he could himself check or start the engines if an 
emergency should render it necessary. 

Then Rovinski, bounding around like a wild animal 
in a cage, took out a key he had brought with him, 
opened the trap-door, lifted it back, and gazed down. 
He could see a beautifully cut well, but that was all. 
But no matter how deep it was, he intended to go 
down to the bottom of it. 

He started the engine and lowered the car to the 
ground. Then he looked up at a grating which hung 
above it, and determined to make use of this protec- 
tion. He could not lower it in the ordinary way after 
he had entered the car, but in fifteen minutes he had 
arranged a pulley and rope by which, after the car 
had gone below the surface, he could lower the grating 
to its place. He got in, started down into the dark 
hole, stopped the engine, lowered the grating, went 
down a little farther, and turned on the electric lights. 

The descent of Rovinski was a succession of the 
198 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


wildest sensations of amazed delight. Stratum after 
stratum passed before his astonished eyes, and, when 
he had gone down low enough, he allowed him self the 
most extravagant expressions of ecstasy. His prog- 
ress was not so regular and steady as that of Roland 
Clewe had been. He found that he had perfect con- 
trol of the engine and car, and sometimes he went 
down rapidly, sometimes slowly, and frequently he 
stopped. As he continued to descend, his amazement 
at the wonderful depth of the shaft became greater 
and greater, and his mind was totally unable to appre- 
ciate the situation. Still he was not frightened, and 
went on down. 

At last Rovinski emerged into the cave of light. 
There he stopped, the car hanging some twenty or 
thirty feet above the bottom. He looked out. He saw 
the shell, he saw the vast expanse of lighted nothing- 
ness. He tried to imagine what it was that that mass 
of iron rested upon. If he had not seen it, he would 
have thought he had come out into the upper air of 
some bottomless cavern. But a great iron machine 
nearly twenty feet long could not rest upon air ! He 
thought he might be dreaming. He sat up and shut 
his eyes. In a few minutes he would open them and 
see if he still saw the same incomprehensible things. 

The downward passage of Rovinski had occupied a 
great deal more time than he had calculated for. He 
had stopped so much, and had been so careful to ex- 
amine the walls of the shaft, that morning had now 
arrived in the upper world, and it was at this moment, 
as he sat with his eyes closed, that William Cunning- 
ham looked down into the mouth of the shaft. 

Cunningham was an observing man, and that morn- 
199 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


ing he had picked up a pin and stuck it in the lapel 
of his rough coat, but he had done this hastily and 
carelessly. The pin was of a recently invented kind, 
being of light, elastic steel, with its head somewhat 
larger than that of an ordinary pin. As Cunningham 
leaned forward this pin slipped out of his coat. It fell 
through one of the openings in the grating, and de- 
scended the shaft head downward. 

For the first quarter of a mile the pin went swiftly, 
in an absolutely perpendicular line, nearly at the 
middle of the shaft. For the next three quarters of a 
mile it went down like a rifle-ball. For the next five 
miles it sped on as if it had been a planet, revolving 
in space. Then, for eight miles, this pin, falling per- 
pendicularly through a greater distance than any 
object on this earth had ever fallen perpendicularly, 
went downward with a velocity like that of light. Its 
head struck the top of the car, which was hanging 
motionless in the cave of light. It did not glance off, 
for its momentum was so great that it would glance 
from nothing. It passed through that steel roof ; it 
passed through Rovinski’s head, through his heart, 
down through the car, and into the great shell which 
lay below. 

When Mr. Bryce and several workmen came run- 
ning back with William Cunningham, they were as 
much surprised as he had been, and could form no 
theory to account for the disappearance of the car. 
It could not have slipped down accidentally and de- 
scended by its own weight, for the trap-door was open 
and the grating was in place. They sent in great 
haste for Mr. Clewe, and when he arrived he wasted 
no time in conjectures, but instantly ordered that the 
200 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


engine which was attached to the car should be started 
and its chain wound up. 

So great was the anxiety to get the car to the sur- 
face of the earth that the engine which raised it was 
run at as high a speed as was deemed safe, and in a 
little more than an hour the car came out of the 
mouth of the shaft, and in it sat Ivan Rovinski, mo- 
tionless and dead. 

No one who knew Rovinski wondered that he had 
had the courage to make the descent of the shaft, and 
those who were acquainted with his great mechanical 
ability were not surprised that he had been able to 
manage, by himself, the complicated machinery which 
would ordinarily require the service of several men. 
But every one who saw him in the car, or after he had 
been taken out of it, was amazed that he should be 
dead. There was no sign of accident, no perceptible 
wound, no appearance, in fact, of any cause why he 
should be a tranquil corpse and not an alert and agile 
devil. Even when a post-mortem examination was 
made, the doctors were puzzled. A thread-like solu- 
tion of continuity was discovered in certain parts of 
his body, but it was lost in others, and the coroner’s 
verdict was that he came to his death from unknown 
causes while descending a shaft. The general opinion 
was that in some way or other he had been frightened 
to death. 

This accident, much to Roland Clewe’s chagrin, dis- 
covered to the public the existence of the great shaft. 
Whether or not he would announce its existence him- 
self, or whether he would close it up, had not been 
determined by Clewe. But when he and Margaret had 
talked over the matter soon after the terrible incident, 
201 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


his mind was made up beyond all possibility of change, 
and, by means of great bombs, the shaft was shattered 
and choked up for a depth of half a mile from its 
mouth. When this work was accomplished nothing 
remained but a shallow well, and when this had been 
filled up with solid masonry, the place where the 
shaft had been was as substantial as any solid ground. 

Now the great discovery was probably shut out for- 
ever from the world, but Clewe was well satisfied. 
He would never make another shaft, and it was not to 
be expected that men would plan and successfully 
construct one which would reach down to the trans- 
parent nucleus of the earth. The terrible fate, what- 
ever it was, which had overtaken ftovinski, should 
not, if Clewe could help it, overtake any other human 
being. 

“But my great discovery,’ 7 said he to Margaret, 
“that remains as wonderful as the sun, and as safe to 
look upon ; for with my Artesian ray I can bore down 
to the solid centre of the earth and into it, and any 
man can study it with no more danger than if he sat 
in his arm-chair at home. And if they doubt what I 
say about the material of which that solid centre is 
composed, we can show them the fragments of it 
which I brought up with me.” 


202 


CHAPTER XXV 


LAURELS 

Nothing but a perusal of the newspapers, magazines, 
and scientific journals of the day could give any idea 
of the enthusiastic interest which was shown all over 
the civilized world in Roland Clewe’s account of the 
discovery of the north pole. His paper on the subject, 
which was the first intimation the public had of the 
great news, was telegraphed to every part of the world, 
and translated into nearly* every written language. 
Sardis became a Mecca for explorers and scientific 
people at home and abroad, and honors of every kind 
were showered by geographical and other learned so- 
cieties upon Clewe and the brave company who had 
voyaged under the ice. 

Each member of the party who had sailed on the 
Dipsey became a hero, and spent most of those days in 
according receptions to reporters, scholars, travellers, 
sportsmen, and as many of the general public as could 
be accommodated. 

Sarah Block received her numerous visitors in the 
parlor of the house which had been occupied by 
Mr. Clewe (which he had vacated in her favor the 
moment he had heard an intimation that she would 
like to have it), in a beautiful gown made of the silky 
203 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


fibre from the pods of the American milkweed, now 
generally used in the manufacture of the finest fabrics. 

Sarah fully appreciated her position as the woman 
who had visited the pole, a position not only unique 
at the time, but which she believed would always 
remain so. In every way she endeavored to make 
her appearance suitable to her new position. She 
wore the best clothes that her money could buy, and 
furnished her new house very handsomely. She dis- 
carded her old silver andirons and fender, which re- 
quired continual cleaning, and which would not have 
been tolerated by her except that they were made of 
a metal which was now so cheap as to be used for 
household utensils, and she put in their place a beau- 
tiful set of polished brass, such as people used in her 
mother’s time. Whenever Sarah found any one whom 
she considered worthy to listen, she gave a very full 
account of her adventures, never omitting the loss of 
her warm and comfortable shoes, which misfortune, 
together with the performances of Rovinski, and all 
the dangers consequent, and the acquaintance of the 
tame and lonely whale, she attributed to the fact that 
there were thirteen people on board. 

Sammy’s accounts were in a more cheerful key, and 
his principles were not affected by his success. He 
never had believed that there was any good in finding 
the pole, and he did not believe it now. When they 
got there, it was just like any other part of the ocean, 
and it required a great deal of arithmetic and naviga- 
tion to find out where it was, even when they were 
looking at it ; besides, as he had found out to his dis- 
gust, even when they had discovered it, it was not the 
real pole to which the needle of the compass points. 

204 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


Moreover, if there had been any distinctive mark 
about it, except the buoy which they had anchored 
there, and even if it really were the pole to which 
needles should point, there was no particular good in 
finding it, unless other people could get there. But 
in regard to any other expedition reaching the open 
polar sea under the ice, Sammy had grave doubts. If 
a whale could not get out of that sea, there was every 
reason why nobody else should try to get into it. The 
Dipsetfs entrance was the barest scratch, and he would 
not try it again, if the north pole were marked out by 
a solid mountain of gold. 

Boland Clewe refused in all personal interviews to 
receive the laudations offered him as the discoverer of 
the pole. It was true that the expedition had been 
planned by him, and all the arrangements and mech- 
anisms which had insured its success were of his 
invention, but he steadily insisted that Mr. Gibbs and 
Sammy, as representatives of the party, should be 
awarded the glory of the great discovery. 

The remarkable success of this most remarkable ex- 
pedition aroused a wide-spread spirit of arctic explora- 
tion. Not only were voyages under the ice discussed 
and planned, but there was a strong feeling in favor 
of overland travel by means of the electric-motor 
sledges, and in England and Norway expeditions 
were organized for the purpose of reaching the polar 
sea in this way. It was noticed in most that was 
written and said upon this subject that one of the 
strongest inducements for arctic expeditions was the 
fact that there would be found on the shores of 
the polar sea a telegraph station, by means of which 
instantaneous news of success could be transmitted. 


205 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


The interest of sportsmen, especially of the hunters 
of big game, was greatly excited by the statement 
that there was a whale in the polar sea. These great 
creatures being extinct everywhere else, it would be 
a unique and crowning glory to capture this last sur- 
vivor of his race, and there were many museums of 
natural history which were already discussing con- 
tracts with intending polar whalers for the purchase 
of the skeleton of the last whale. 

During all this time of enthusiasm and excitement, 
Roland Clewe made no reference, in any public way, 
to his great discovery, which, in his opinion, far sur- 
passed in importance to the world all possible arctic 
discoveries. He was busily engaged in increasing the 
penetrating distance of his Artesian ray, and when the 
public mind should have sufficiently recovered from 
the perturbation into which it had been thrown by 
the discovery of the pole, he intended to lay before it 
the results of his researches into the depths of the 
earth. 

At last the time arrived when he was ready for the 
announcement of the great achievement of his life. 
The machinery for the production of the Artesian ray 
had been removed to the larger building which had 
contained the automatic shell, and was set up very 
near the place where the mouth of the great shaft had 
been. The lenses were arranged so that the path of 
the great ray should run down alongside of the shaft 
and but a few feet from it. The screen was set up as 
it had been in the other building, and everything was 
made ready for the operations of the photic borer. 

About a dozen of the most distinguished specialists 
in the various branches of science concerned in his 


206 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


operations had been invited by Clewe to be present 
on this occasion, and in addition, of course, were re- 
porters from the principal newspapers. There were 
several ladies present, one of them the celebrated Ida 
Tippengray, professor of geology at Bryn Mawr Col- 
lege, whose recent work upon the carboniferous rocks 
had excited great attention. Margaret Raleigh and 
Sarah Block were also present, and Sammy, with Mr. 
Gibbs and all the Dipsey people, assembled to learn 
what had been done at the works during their ab- 
sence, without any suspicion that there was a dis- 
covery possible which could throw even the smallest 
shadow upon their exploits. 

The address which Roland Clewe now delivered to 
the company was made as brief and as much to the 
point as possible. The description of the Artesian ray 
was listened to with the deepest interest and with a 
vast amount of unexpressed incredulity. What he 
subsequently said regarding his automatic shell and its 
accidental descent through fourteen miles of the earth’s 
crust excited more interest and more incredulity, not 
entirely unexpressed. Clewe was well known as a 
man of science, an inventor, an electrician of rare 
ability, and a person of serious purpose and strict 
probity, but it was possible for a man of great attain- 
ments and of the highest moral character to become a 
little twisted in his intellect. 

1 When at last the speaker told of his descent into 
the shaft, of his passage fourteen miles into the in- 
terior of the earth, of his discoveries on which he 
based his theory that the centre of our globe is one 
vast diamond, there was a general laugh from the 
reporters’ quarter, and the men of science began to 
207 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


move uneasily in their seats and to talk to each other. 
Professor Tippengray, her silver hair brushed smoothly 
back from her pale countenance, sat looking at the 
speaker through her gold spectacles as if the rays from 
her bright eyes would penetrate into the very recesses 
of his soul. Not an atom of doubt was in her mind. 
She never doubted : she believed or she disbelieved. 
At present she believed. She had come there to do 
that, and she would wait, and when the proper time 
had come to disbelieve she would do so. 

If there had been any disposition in the audience 
to considerately leave the man of shattered intellect 
to the care of his friends, it disappeared when Clewe 
said that he would now be glad to show to all present 
the workings of the Artesian ray. Crazy as he might 
be, they wanted to wait and see what he had done. 
The workmen who had charge of the machinery were 
on hand, and in a few moments a circle of light was 
glowing on the ground within the screen. Clewe now 
announced that he would take those present, one at a 
time, inside the inclosure and show them how light 
could be made to penetrate miles downward into the 
solid earth and rock. 

Professor Tippengray was the first one invited to 
step within the screen. Clewe stood at the entrance, 
ready to explain or to hand her the necessary tele- 
scopes, and as the portion of her body which remained 
visible was between him and the light, there was 
nothing to disturb his nerves. 

The lenses were so set that they could penetrate al- 
most instantly to the depth which had previously been 
reached, but Clewe made his ray move downward 
somewhat slowly. He did not wish, especially to the 
first observer, to show everything at once. 

208 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


As she beheld at her feet a great lighted well, ex- 
tending downward beyond the reach of her sharp eyes, 
Professor Tippengray stepped back with a scream 
which caused nearly everybody in the audience to 
start to his feet. Clewe expected this. He raised 
his hand to the company, asking them to keep still. 
Then he handed Professor Tippengray a stick. 

“Take this / 7 he said, “and strike that disk of light. 
Yon will find it as solid ground as that you stand on . 77 

She did so. 

“It is solid ! 77 she gasped, “but where is the end of 
the stick f 77 

He turned off the light. There was the end of the 
stick, and there was the little patch of sandy gravel, 
which he stepped upon, stamping heavily as he did so. 

He then retired outside the screen. Professor Tip- 
pengray turned to the audience. 

“It is all right, gentlemen , 77 she said. “There is 
nothing to be afraid of. I am going on with the in- 
vestigation . 77 

Down, down, down went the light, and, telescope 
in hand, she stood close to the shining edge of the 
apparent shaft. 

“Presently , 77 Clewe said, “you will see the end of 
the shaft which my Artesian ray is making. Then you 
will perceive a vast expanse of lighted nothingness. 
That is the great cleft in the diamond which I described 
to you. In this, apparently suspended in light, you 
will notice the broken conical end of an enormous iron 
shell, the shell which made the real tunnel down which 
I descended in the car . 77 

At this she turned around and looked at him. Even 
into her strong mind the sharp edge of distrust began 
to insert itself. 


209 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


“Look ! ” said he. 

She looked through her telescope. There was the 
cave of light— there was the shattered end of the 
shell. 

The hands which held the telescope began to trem- 
ble. Quickly Clewe drew her away. 

“Now,” said he, “do you believe i ” 

For a few moments she could not speak, and then 
she whispered, “I believe that I have seen what you 
have told me I should see.” 

Now succeeded a period of intense excitement, such 
as was perhaps never before known in an assembly of 
scientific people. One by one, each person was led by 
Clewe inside the screen and shown the magical shaft 
of light. Each received the revelation according to 
his nature. Some were dumfounded and knew not 
what to think. Others suspected all sorts of tricks, 
especially with the telescopes. But a well-known opti- 
cian, who at Clewe’s request had brought a telescope 
of his own, quickly disproved all suspicions of this 
kind. Many could not help doubting what they had 
seen, but it was impossible for them to formulate their 
doubts, with that wonderful shaft of light still present 
to their mental visions. 

For more than two hours Roland Clewe exhibited 
the action of his Artesian ray. Then he called the 
company to order. He had shown them his shaft of 
light, and now he would give them some facts in re- 
gard to the real shaft made by the automatic shell. 

Every man who had been concerned in Mr. Clewe’s 
descent into the shaft, and those who had assisted in 
the sounding and the photographing, as well as the 
persons who had been present when Rovinski was 
210 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


drawn up from its depths, now came forward and gave 
their testimony. Clewe then exhibited the photo- 
graphs he had taken with his suspended camera, and 
to the geologists present these were revelations of 
absorbing interest. Seeing so much that they under- 
stood, it was difficult to doubt what they saw and did 
not understand. 

Now that what Clewe had just told them was sub- 
stantiated by a number of witnesses, and now that they 
had heard from these men that a plummet, a camera, 
and a car had been lowered fourteen miles into the 
bowels of the earth, they had no reason to suppose 
that the great shaft had existed only in the imagina- 
tion of one crazy man, and they could not believe that 
all these assistants and workmen were lunatics or liars. 
Still they doubted. Clewe could see that in their 
faces as they intently listened to him. 

“My friends,” said he, “I have set before you nearly 
all the facts connected with my experience in the 
shaft, but one important fact I have not yet men- 
tioned. I am quite sure that few, if any, of you be- 
lieve that I descended into the cleft of a great diamond 
lying beneath what we call the crust of the earth. I 
will now state that before I left that cavity I picked 
up some fragments of the material of which it is com- 
posed, which were splintered off when my shell fell 
into it. I will show you one of them.” 

A man brought a table covered with a blue cloth, 
and from one of his pockets Clewe drew a small bag. 
Opening this, he took out a diamond which he had 
brought up from the cave of light, and placed it on 
the middle of the table. 

“This,” he said, “is a fragment of the mass of dia- 
211 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


mond into which I descended. I have called it the 
‘ Great Stone of Sardis.’ ” 

Nobody spoke— nobody seemed to breathe. The 
huge diamond, of the form and size of a large lemon, 
lay glowing upon the dark cloth. Its irregular facets 
—all of them clean-cut and polished, the results of 
fracture — absorbed and reflected the light, and a halo 
of subdued radiance surrounded the great gem like 
a tender mist. 

“I brought away a number of fragments of the 
diamond,” said Clewe, his voice sounding as if he 
spoke into an empty hall, “and some of them have 
been tested by two of the gentlemen present. Here 
are the stones which have been tested.” He laid 
some small pieces on the cloth. “They are of the 
same material as the large one. I brought them all 
from what I believe to be the great central core of 
the earth.” 

Everybody pressed forward. They surrounded the 
table. One of the jewellers reverently took up the 
great stone ; then in his other hand he took one of the 
smaller fragments, which he instantly recognized from 
its peculiar shape. He looked from one to the other. 
Presently he said : 

“They are the same substances. This is a diamond.” 
And he laid the great stone back upon the cloth. 

“Is there any other place on the surface of this 
earth, or is there any mine,” inquired a shrill voice 
from the company, “where one could get a diamond 
like that?” 

“There is no such place known to mortal man,” re- 
plied the jeweller. 

“Then,” said the same shrill voice, which belonged 
212 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


to a professor from Harvard, “I think it is the duty 
of every one present, whose mind is capable of it, to 
believe that the centre of this earth, or a part of that 
centre, is a vast diamond. At the same time, I would 
say that my mind is not capable of such a belief.” 

The public excitement produced by the announce- 
ment of the discovery of the pole was a trifle 
compared to that resulting from the news of the pro- 
ceedings of that day. Clewe’s address, with full ac- 
counts by the reporters, was printed everywhere, and 
it was not long before the learned world had given 
itself up to the discussion. 

From this controversy Poland Clewe kept himself 
aloof. He had done all that he wanted to do, he had 
shown all that he cared to show. How he would let 
other people investigate his facts and his reasonings 
and argue about them. He would retire— he had 
done enough. 

Professor Tippengray was one of the most enthusi- 
astic defenders of Clewe’s theories, and wrote a great 
deal on the subject. 

“ Granted,” she said in one of her articles, “ that the 
carboniferous minerals, of which the diamond is one, are 
derived from vegetable matter, and that wood and plants 
must have existed before the diamond, where, may I 
ask, did the pre-diamond forests derive their carbon? 
In what form did it exist before they came into being ? ” 

In another essay she said : 

“ Half a century ago it was discovered that a man 
could talk through a thousand miles of wire, and yet 
now we doubt that a man can descend through fourteen 
miles of rock.” 


213 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


As to the Artesian ray itself there could be no 
doubt whatever, for when Clewe, in one of his experi- 
ments, directed it horizontally through a small moun- 
tain, and objects could be plainly discerned upon the 
other side, discussions in regard to the genuineness of 
the action of the photic borer were useless. 

In medicine, as well as in surgery, the value of the 
Artesian ray was speedily admitted by the civilized 
world. To eliminate everything between the eye of 
the surgeon and the affected portion of a human 
organism was like the rising of the sun upon a hitherto 
benighted region. 

In the winter Margaret Raleigh and Roland Clewe 
were married. They travelled, they lived and loved 
in pleasant places, and they returned the next year 
rich in new ideas and old art trophies. They bought 
a fine estate, and furnished it and improved it as an 
artist paints a picture— without a thought of the cost 
of the colors he puts upon it. They were rich enough 
to have everything they cared to wish for. Undue 
toil and troubled thought had been the companions of 
Roland Clewe for many a year, and their company 
had been imposed upon him by his poverty. Now he 
would not, nor would his wife, allow that companion- 
ship to be imposed upon him by his riches. 

The Great Stone of Sardis was sold to a syndicate of 
kings, each member of which was unwilling that this 
dominant gem of the world should belong exclusively 
to any royal family other than his own. When a 
coronation should occur, each member of the syndi- 
cate had a right to the use of the jewel. At other 
times it remained in the custody of one of the great 
bankers of the world, who at stated periods allowed 
214 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


the inhabitants of said planet to gaze upon its tran- 
scendent brilliancy. 

But the works at Sardis were not given up. Mar- 
garet was not jealous of her rival, science, and if 
Roland had ceased to be an inventor, a discoverer, a 
philosopher, simply because he had become a rich and 
happy husband, he would have ceased to be the Ro- 
land she had loved so long. 

The discovery of the north pole had given him fame 
and honor, for, notwithstanding the fact that he had 
never been there, he was always considered as the man 
who had given to the world its only knowledge of its 
most northern point. 

But in his heart Roland Clewe placed little value 
upon this discovery. Before Mr. Gibbs had announced 
the exact location of the north pole, all the students 
of geography had known where it was. Before the 
eyes of the party on the Dipsey had rested upon the 
spot pointed out by Mr. Gibbs, it was well understood 
that the north pole was either an invisible point on 
the surface of ice or an invisible point on the surface 
of water. If no possible good could result from a 
journey such as the Dipsey had made, no subsequent 
good of a similar kind could ever be expected ; for 
the next submarine vessel which attempted a Northern 
journey under the ice was as likely to remain under 
the ice as it was to emerge into the open air, and if 
any one reached the open sea upon motor sledges, it 
would be necessary for them to carry boats with them 
if they desired so much as a sight of that weather-vane 
which, no matter how the wind blew, always pointed 
to the south. 

It was the Artesian ray which Clewe considered the 
215 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


great achievement of his life, and to this he intended 
to devote the remainder of his working days. It was 
his object to penetrate deeper and deeper with this 
ray into the interior of the earth. He could always 
provide himself with telescopes which would show him 
the limit reached by his photic borer, and so long as 
that limit was a transparent disk, illuminated by his 
great ray, so long he would believe in the existence of 
the diamond centre of the earth. When the pene- 
trating light reached something different, then would 
come the time for a change in his theories. 

Discussion and controversy in regard to the dis- 
coveries of the Artesian ray continued, often with 
great earnestness and heat, in learned circles, and 
there were frequent demands upon Clewe to demon- 
strate the truth of his descent of fourteen miles below 
the surface of the earth by an actual exhibition of 
the shaft he had made or by the construction of 
another. 

But to such requests Clewe turned a deaf ear. It 
would be impossible for him to open his old shaft. If 
in any way he could remove the rocks and soil which 
now blocked up its upper portion for a distance of 
half a mile, it would be impossible to reconstruct any 
portion which had been obstructed. The smooth and 
polished walls of the shaft, which gave Clewe such 
assurance of safety from falling fragments, would not 
exist if the tunnel were opened. 

As to a new shaft, that would require a new auto- 
matic shell, and this Clewe was not willing to con- 
struct. In fact, rather than make a new opening to 
the cave of light, he would prefer that people should 
doubt that any such cave existed. The more he 
216 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


thought of his own descent into that great cleft, the 
more he thought of the horrible danger of sliding 
down some invisible declivity to awful, unknown re- 
gions. The more he thought of the mysterious death 
of Rovinski, the more firmly did he determine that not 
by his agency should a human being descend again 
to those mysterious depths. He would do all that 
he could to enable men to see into the interior of this 
earth, but he would do nothing to help any man to 
get there. 

The controversies in regard to their discoveries and 
theory disturbed Roland and Margaret not a whit. 
They worked steadily, with energy and zeal, and, above 
all, they worked without that dreadful cloud which so 
frequently overhangs the laborer in new fields— the 
fear that the means of labor will disappear before the 
object of the work shall come in view. 

One morning in the early summer, Roland rushed into 
the room where Margaret sat. 

“I have made a discovery ! v he exclaimed. “Come 
quickly. I want to show it to you ! ” 

The heart of the young wife sank. During all these 
happy days the only shadow that ever flitted across 
her sky was the thought that some novel temptation 
of science might turn her husband from the great 
work to which he had dedicated himself. Much that 
he had purposed to do, he had, at her earnest solicita- 
tion, set aside in favor of what she considered the 
greatest task to which a human being could give his 
time, his labor, and his thought. It had been long 
since she had heard her husband speak of a new dis- 
covery, and the words chilled her spirit. 

217 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


“Come,” lie said, “quickly ! ” And taking her by 
the hand, he led her out upon the lawn. 

Over the soft green turf, under the beautiful trees, 
by the bright flowers of the parterres and through the 
natural beauty of the charming park, he led her. But 
not a word did she say of the soft colors and the soft 
air. Not a flower did she look at. It seemed to her 
as if she trod a bleak and stony road. She dreaded 
what she might hear, what she might see. 

He led her hastily through a gate in the garden 
wall. They passed through the garden, and, Roland 
whispering to Margaret to step lightly, they entered 
a quiet, shady spot beyond the house-grounds. 

“This way,” he whispered. “Stoop down. Do you 
see that shining thing with bright red patches of 
color ? It is an old tomato-can. A robin has built her 
nest in it. There are three dear little birds inside. 
The mother bird is away, and I wanted you to come 
before she returned. Isn’t it lucky that I should have 
found that— and here, in our own grounds? I don’t 
believe there was ever another robin who made her 
nest in a tomato-can ! ” 

Doubtless the two birds who had made that nest 
sincerely loved each other, and there were at that 
moment a great many other birds, and a great many 
men and women, in the same plight, but never any- 
where did any human being possess a soul so happy as 
that of Margaret at that moment. 

“Roland,” she said, “when I first knew you, you 
would not have noticed such a little thing as that.” 

“I couldn’t afford it,” he said. 

“It is the sweetest charm of all your triumphs ! ” 
said she. 


218 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


“What is?” he asked. 

“That you feel able to afford it now,” answered 
Margaret. 

Samuel Block and his wife Sarah found that life 
grew pleasanter as they grew older. Fortunate winds 
had blown down to them from the distant North. The 
substantial rewards of the enterprise were eminently 
satisfactory, and the honors which came to them were 
not at all unwelcome, even to the somewhat cynical 
Samuel. 

Sitting, one evening, with his wife before a cheering 
fire, — for both of them were wedded to the old-fash- 
ioned ways of keeping warm,— Sammy laid down the 
daily paper with a smile. 

“There’s an account here,” he said, “of a lot o’ fools 
who are goin’ to fit out a submarine ship to try to go 
under the ice to the pole, as we did. They may get 
there, and they may get back ; they may get there, 
and they may never get back $ and they may never 
get there, and never get back : but whichever of the 
three it happens to be, it’ll be of no more good than 
if they measured a mile to see how many inches there 
was in it.” 

“Sammy,” exclaimed Sarah, “I do think you are old 
enough to stop talkin’ such nonsense as that. To be 
sure, there was a good many things that I objected to 
in that voyage to the pole. In the first place, there 
was thirteen people on board, which was the greatest 
mistake ever committed by a human explorin’ party ; 
and then, ag’in, there was no provision for keepin’ 
whales from bumpin’ the ship, and if you knew the 
number of hours that I laid awake on that Dipsey , 
thinkin’ what would happen if that frolicsome whale 
219 


THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS 


determined not to be left alone, and should follow us 
into narrow quarters, you would understand my feel- 
ings on that subject. But as to sayin’ there wasn’t no 
good in the expedition— I think that’s downright 
wickedness. Look at that fender; look at them 
andirons, them beautiful brass candlesticks, and that 
shovel and tongs, with handles shinin’ like gold ! If 
it hadn’t been that we discovered the pole, and so got 
able to afford good furniture, all those handsome things 
would have been made of common silver, just as if 
they was pots and kittles, or garden-spades ! ” 


220 


THE WATER-DEVIL: A MARINE TALE 















THE WATER-DEVIL: A MARINE TALE 

I N the village of Riprock there was neither tavern 
nor inn, for it was but a small place through which 
few travellers passed $ but it could not be said to be 
without a place of entertainment, for if by chance a 
stranger— or two or three of them, for that matter— 
wished to stop at Riprock for a meal, or to pass the 
night, there was the house of Blacksmith Fryker, which 
was understood to be always open to decent travellers. 

The blacksmith was a prominent man in the village, 
and his house was a large one, with several spare bed- 
rooms, and it was said by those who had had an op- 
portunity of judging, that nobody in the village lived 
better than Blacksmith Fryker and his family. 

Into the village there came, late one autumn after- 
noon, a tall man, who was travelling on foot, with a 
small valise hanging from his shoulder. He had in- 
quired for lodging for the night, had been directed to 
the blacksmith’s house, had arranged to stop there, 
had had his supper, which greatly satisfied him, and 
was now sitting before the fire in the large living- 
room, smoking Blacksmith Fryker’s biggest pipe. 
This stranger was a red-haired man, with a cheery 
expression, and a pair of quick, bright eyes. He was 
slenderly but strongly built, and was a good fellow, 
223 


THE WATER-DEVIL: A MARINE TALE 


who would stand by, with his hands in the pockets of 
his short pea-jacket, and right willingly tell one who 
was doing something how the thing ought to be done. 

But the traveller did not sit alone before the crack- 
ling fire of logs, for, the night being cool, a table was 
drawn near to one side of the fireplace, and by this 
sat Mistress Fryker and her daughter Joanna, both 
engaged in some sort of needlework. The blacksmith 
sat between the corner of the fireplace and this table, 
so that, when he had finished smoking his after-supper 
pipe, he might put on his spectacles and read the 
weekly paper by the light of the big lamp. On the 
other side of the stranger, whose chair was in front 
of the middle of the fireplace, sat the schoolmaster, 
Andrew Cardly by name, a middle-aged man of sober 
and attentive aspect, and very glad when chance 
threw in his way a book he had not read, or a stranger 
who could reinforce his stock of information. At the 
other corner of the fireplace, in a cushioned chair, 
which was always given to him when he dropped in 
to spend an evening with the blacksmith, sat Mr. 
Harberry, an elderly man— a man of substance, and a 
man in whom all Riprock, not excluding himself, 
placed unqualified confidence as to his veracity, his 
financial soundness, and his deep insight into the 
causes, the influences, and the final issue of events and 
conditions. 

“On a night like this,” said the stranger, stretching 
his long legs toward the blaze, “there is nothing I 
like better than a fire of wood, except, indeed, it be 
the society of ladies who do not object to a little to- 
bacco smoke,” and he glanced with a smile toward 
the table with the lamp upon it. 

224 


THE WATER-DEVIL : A MARINE TALE 


Kow, Blacksmith Fryker was a prudent man, and he 
did not consider that the privileges of his hearthstone 
—always freely granted to a decent stranger— in- 
cluded an aqcuaintance with his pretty daughter, and 
so, without allowing his women-folk a chance to enter 
into the conversation, he offered the stranger a differ- 
ent subject to hammer upon. 

“In the lower country,” said he, “they don’t need 
fires as early in the season as we do. What calling 
do you follow, sir ? Some kind of trade, perhaps ! ” 

“No,” said the traveller, “I follow no trade. I fol- 
low the sea.” 

At this the three men looked at him, as also the 
two women. His appearance no more suggested that 
he was a seaman than the appearance of Mr. Har- 
berry suggested that he was what the village of Bip- 
rock believed him to be. 

“I should not have taken you for a sailor,” said the 
blacksmith. 

“I am not a sailor,” said the other. “I am a sol- 
dier, a sea-soldier— in fact, a marine.” 

“I should say, sir,” remarked the schoolmaster, in 
a manner intended rather to draw out information 
than to give it, “that the position of a soldier on a 
ship possessed advantages over that of a soldier on 
land. The former is not required to make long 
marches, nor to carry heavy baggage. He remains at 
rest, in fact, while traversing great distances. Nor is 
he called on to resist the charges of cavalry, nor to 
form hollow squares on the deadly battle-field.” 

The stranger smiled. “We often find it hard 
enough,” said he, “to resist the charges made against 
us by our officers. The hollow squares form themselves 
225 


THE WATER-DEVIL: A MARINE TALE 


in our stomachs when we are on short rations, and I 
have known many a man who would rather walk 
twenty miles than sail one, especially when the sea 
chops.” 

“I am very sure, sir,” said Schoolmaster Cardly, 
“that there is nothing to be said against the endur- 
ance and the courage of marines. We all remember 
how they presented arms, and went down with the 
Royal George .” 

The marine smiled. 

“I suppose,” said the blacksmith, “that you never 
had to do anything of that sort ? ” 

The stranger did not immediately answer, but sat 
looking into the fire. Presently he said : “I have 
done things of nearly every sort, although not exactly 
that. But I have thought my ship was going down 
with all on board, and that’s the next worst thing to 
going down, you know.” 

“And how was that?” inquired Fryker. 

“Well,” said the other, “it happened more times 
than I can tell you of, of even remember. Yes,” said 
he, meditatively, “more times than I can remember.” 

“I am sure,” said the schoolmaster, “that we should 
all like to hear some of your experiences.” 

The marine shrugged his shoulders. “These 
things,” said he, “come to a man, and then, if he lives 
through them, they pass on, and he is ready for the 
next streak of luck, good or bad. That’s the way with 
us followers of the sea, especially if we happen to be 
marines, and have to bear, so to speak, the responsi- 
bility of two professions. But sometimes a mischance 
or a disaster does fix itself upon a man’s mind so that 
he can tell about it if he is called upon, and just now 
226 


THE WATER-DEVIL : A MARINE TALE 


there comes to my mind a very odd thing which once 
happened to me, and I can give you the points of that, 
if you like.” 

The three men assured him that they would very 
much like it, and the two women looked as if they 
were of the same opinion. 

Before he began, the marine glanced about him, 
with a certain good-natured wistfulness which might 
have indicated, to those who understood the counte- 
nances of the sea-going classes, a desire to wet his 
whistle. But if this expression were so intended, it was 
thrown away, for Blacksmith Fryker took no spirits 
himself, nor furnished them to anybody else. Giving 
up all hope in this direction, the marine took a long 
pull at his pipe and began : 

“It was in the winter of 1878 that I was on the Bay 
of Bengal, on my way to Calcutta, and about five 
hundred miles distant from that city. I was not on 
my own ship, but was returning from a leave of ab- 
sence on an American steamer from San Francisco to 
Calcutta, where my vessel, the United States frigate 
Apache, was then lying. My leave of absence would 
expire in three days, but although the General Brooks , 
the vessel I was aboard of, was more of a freight than 
a passenger vessel, and was heavily laden, we would 
have been in port in good time if, two days before, 
something had not happened to the machinery. I 
am not a machinist myself, and don’t know exactly 
what it was that was out of order, but the engine 
stopped, and we had to proceed under sail. That 
sounds like a slow business, but the Brooks was a 
clipper-built vessel, with three masts and a lot of sails 
—square-sails, fore-and-aft sails, jib-sails, and all that 
227 


THE WATER-DEVIL: A MARINE TALE 


sort of thing. I am not a regular sailor myself, and 
don’t know the names of all the sails, but whatever 
sails she could have she did have, and although she 
was an iron vessel, and heavily freighted, she was a 
good sailer. We had a strong, steady wind from the 
south, and the captain told me that at the rate we 
were going he didn’t doubt that he would get me 
aboard my vessel before my leave ran out, or, at 
least, so soon afterwards that it wouldn’t make any 
difference. 

“Well, as I said, the wind blew strong and steady 
behind us, the sails were full, and the spray dashed 
up at our bow in a way calculated to tickle the soul 
of any one anxious to get to the end of his voyage ; 
and I was one of that sort, I can tell you. 

“In the afternoon of the second day after our engine 
stopped, I was standing at the bow, and looking over, 
when suddenly I noticed that there wasn’t any spray 
dashing up in front of the vessel. I thought we must 
have struck a sudden calm, but, glancing up, I saw 
the sails were full, and the wind blew fair in my face 
as I turned toward the stern. I walked aft to the 
skipper, and, touching my cap, I said, ‘ Captain, how 
is it that when a ship is dashing along at this rate she 
doesn’t throw up any spray with her cutwater? ’ He 
grinned a little, and said, ‘But she does, you know.’ 
‘If you will come forward,’ said I, ‘I’ll show you 
that she doesn’t.’ Then we walked forward, and I 
showed him that she didn’t. I never saw a man so 
surprised. At first he thought that somebody had 
been squirting oil in front, but even if that had been 
the case, there would have been some sort of a ripple 
on each side of the bow, and there wasn’t anything of 
228 


THE WATER-DEVIL : A MARINE TALE 


the kind. The skipper took off his cap and scratched 
his head. Then he turned and sang out , 6 Mr. Rogers, 
throw the log.’ 

“Now, the log,” said the marine, turning to Mrs. 
Fryker and her daughter, “is a little piece of wood 
with a long line to it, that they throw out behind a 
vessel to see how fast she is going. I am not a regular 
Jack Tar myself, and don’t understand the principle 
of the thing, but it tells you exactly how many miles 
an hour the ship is going. 

“In about two minutes Mr. Rogers stepped up, with 
his eyes like two auger -holes, and said he, ‘ Captain, 
we’re makin’ no knots an hour. We’re not sailin’ 
at all.’ 

uc Get out ! ’ roared the captain. 1 Don’t you see the 
sails? Don’t you feel the wind? Throw that log 
again, sir.’ 

“Well, they threw the log again,— the captain saw 
it done,— and, sure enough, Mr. Rogers was right. The 
vessel wasn’t moving. With a wind that ought to 
have carried her spinning along miles and miles in 
an hour, she was standing stock-still. The] skipper 
here let out one of the strongest imprecations used in 
navigation, and said he , i Mr. Rogers, is it possible that 
there is a sand-bar in the middle of the Bay of Bengal, 
and that we’ve stuck on it? Cast the lead.’ 

“I will just state to the ladies,” said the marine, 
turning toward the table, “that the lead is a heavy 
weight that is lowered to the bottom of a body of 
water to see how deep it is, and this operation is 
called sounding. Well, they sounded and they 
sounded, but everywhere— fore, aft, and midship— 
they found plenty of water ; in fact, not having a line 
229 


THE WATER-DEVIL : A MARINE TALE 


for deep-sea sounding, they couldn’t touch bottom 
at all. 

“I can tell you, ladies and gentlemen,” said the 
marine, looking from one to another of the party, 
“that things now began to feel creepy. I am not 
afraid of storms, nor fires at sea, nor any of the com- 
mon accidents of the ocean $ but for a ship to stand 
still, with plenty of water under her, and a strong 
wind filling her sails, has more of the uncanny about 
it than I fancy. Pretty near the whole of the crew 
were on deck by this time, and I could see that they 
felt very much as I did, but nobody seemed to know 
what to say about it. 

“Suddenly, the captain thought that some unknown 
current was setting against us, forcing the vessel 
back with the same power that the wind was forcing 
her forward, and he tried to put the ship about so as 
to have the wind on her starboard quarter ; but as she 
hadn’t any headway, or for some other reason, this 
didn’t work. Then it struck him that perhaps one 
of the anchors had been accidentally dropped j but 
they were all in their places, and if one of them had 
dropped, its cable would not have been long enough 
to touch bottom. 

“Now I could see that he began to look scared. 
‘Mr. Browser,’ said he to the chief engineer, ‘for 
some reason or other this ship does not make headway 
under sail. You must go to work and get the engine 
running.’ And for the rest of that day everybody on 
board who understood that sort of thing was down 
below, hard at work with the machinery, hammering 
and banging like good fellows. 

“The chief officer ordered a good many of the sails 
230 


THE WATER-DEVIL: A MARINE TALE 


to be taken in, for they were only uselessly straining 
the masts, but there were enough left to move her in 
case the power of the current, or whatever it was that 
stopped her, had slackened, and she steadily kept her 
position with the breeze abaft. 

“All the crew who were not working below were 
crowded together on deck, talking about this strange 
thing. I joined them, and soon found that they 
thought it was useless to waste time and labor on the 
machinery. They didn’t believe it could be mended, 
and if it should be, how could an engine move a vessel 
that the wind couldn’t stir? 

“ These men were of many nationalities— Dutch, 
Scandinavian, Spanish, Italian, South American, and 
a lot more. Like many other American vessels that 
sail from our ports, nearly all the officers and crew 
were foreigners. The captain was a Finlander who 
spoke very good English. The only man who called 
himself an American was the chief officer ; and he 
was only half a one, for he was born in Germany, 
came to the United States when he was twenty 
years old, stayed there five years, which didn’t count 
either way, and had now been naturalized for twenty 
years. 

“The consequence of this variety in nationality was 
that the men had all sorts of ideas and notions regard- 
ing the thing that was happening. They had thrown 
over chips and bits of paper to see if the vessel had 
begun to move, and had found that she didn’t budge 
an inch, and now they seemed afraid to look over the 
sides. 

“They were a superstitious lot, as might be ex- 
pected, and they all believed that, in some way or 
231 


THE WATER-DEVIL: A MARINE TALE 


other, the ship was bewitched ; and, in fact, I felt like 
agreeing with them, although I did not say so. 

“ There was an old Portuguese sailor on board, an 
ugly-looking, weather-beaten little fellow, and when 
he had listened to everything the others had to say, 
he shuffled himself into the middle of the group. 
‘Look here, mates/ said he, in good enough English, 
‘it’s no use talking no more about this. I know 
what’s the matter. I’ve sailed these seas afore, and 
I’ve been along the coast of this bay all the way from 
Negapatam to Jellasore on the west coast, and from 
Chittagong to Kraw on the other, and I have heard 
stories of the strange things that are in this Bay of 
Bengal, and what they do, and the worst of them all 
is the Water-devil— and he’s got us ! ’ 

“When the old rascal said this, there wasn’t a man 
on deck who didn’t look pale, in spite of his dirt and 
his sunburn. The chief officer tried to keep his knees 
stiff, but I could see him shaking. ‘What’s a water- 
devil ? ’ said he, trying to make believe he thought it 
all stuff and nonsense. The Portuguese touched his 
forelock. ‘Do you remember, sir,’ said he, ‘what was 
the latitude and longitude when you took your obser- 
vation to-day?’ ‘Yes,’ said the other, ‘it was 15° 
north and 90° east.’ The Portuguese nodded his 
head. ‘That’s just about the spot, sir— just about. I 
can’t say exactly where the spot is, but it’s just about 
here, and we’ve struck it. There isn’t a native sea- 
man on any of these coasts that would sail over that 
point, if he knowed it and could help it, for that’s the 
spot where the Water-devil lives.’ 

“It made me jump to hear the grunt that went 
through that crowd when he said this, but nobody 
232 


THE WATER-DEVIL : A MARINE TALE 


asked any questions, and he went on. ‘ This here 
Water-devil/ said he, ‘is about as big as six whales, 
and in shape very like an oyster without its shell, and 
he fastens himself to the rocks at the bottom with a 
million claws. Right out of the middle of him there 
grows up a long arm that reaches to the top of the 
water, and at the end of this arm is a fist about the 
size of a yawl-boat, with fifty-two fingers to it, with 
each one of them covered with little suckers that will 
stick fast to anything— iron, wood, stone, or flesh. 
All that this Water-devil gets to eat is what happens 
to come swimmin’ or sailin’ along where he can reach 
it, and it doesn’t matter to him whether it’s a shark, 
or a porpoise, or a shipful of people, and when he 
takes a grab of anything, that thing never gets away.’ 

“About this time there were five or six men on 
their knees saying their prayers, such as they were, 
and a good many others looked as if they were just 
about to drop. 

“‘Now, when this Water-devil gets hold of a ship,’ 
the old fellow went on, ‘he don’t generally pull her 
straight down to the bottom, but holds on to it till he 
counts his claws, and sees that they are all fastened to 
the rocks ; for if a good many of them wasn’t fastened 
he might pull himself loose, instead of pulling the 
ship down, and then he’d be a goner, for he’d be towed 
away, and like as not put in a museum. But when 
he is satisfied that he’s moored fast and strong, then 
he hauls on his arm, and down comes the ship, no 
matter how big she is. As the ship is sinkin’ he turns 
her over, every now and then, keel uppermost, and 
gives her a shake, and when the people drop out he 
sucks them into a sort of funnel, which is his mouth.’ 

233 


THE WATER-DEVIL: A MARINE TALE 


“‘Does he count fast?’ asked one of the men, this 
being the first question that had been asked. 

“‘I’ve heard/ said the Portuguese, ‘that he’s a rapid 
calculator, and the minute he’s got to his millionth 
claw, and finds it’s hooked tight and fast, he begins to 
haul down the ship.’ ” 

At this point the marine stopped and glanced 
around at the little group. The blacksmith’s wife and 
daughter had put down their work, and were gazing 
at him with an air of horrified curiosity. The black- 
smith held his pipe in his hand, and regarded the 
narrator with the steadiness and impassiveness of an 
anvil. The schoolmaster was listening with the 
greatest eagerness. He was an enthusiast on natural 
history and mythology, and had written an article 
for a weekly paper on the reconciliation of the beasts 
of tradition with the fauna of to-day. Mr. Harberry 
was not looking at the marine. His eyes were fixed 
upon the schoolmaster. 

“Mr. Cardly,” said he, “did you ever read of an 
animal like that?” 

“I cannot say that I have,” was his reply. “But it 
is certain that there are many strange creatures, 
especially in the sea, of which scientists are compara- 
tively ignorant.” 

“Such as the sea-serpent,” added the marine, 
quickly, “and a great many other monsters who are 
not in the books, but who have a good time at the 
bottom of the sea, all the same. Well, to go on with 
my story, you must understand that, though this 
Portuguese spoke broken English, which I haven’t 
tried to give you, he made himself perfectly plain to 
all of us, and I can assure you that when he got 
234 


THE WATER-DEVIL: A MARINE TALE 


through talking there was a shaky lot of men on that 
deck. 

“The chief officer said he would go below and see 
how the captain was getting on, and the crew huddled 
together in the bow, and began whispering among 
themselves, as if they were afraid the Water-devil 
would hear them. I turned to walk aft, feeling pretty 
queer, I can tell you, when I saw Miss Minturn just 
coming up from the cabin below. 

“I haven’t said anything about Miss Minturn, but 
she and her father, who was an elderly English gentle- 
man and an invalid, who had never left his berth since 
we took him up at Singapore, were our only passengers, 
except, of course, myself. She was a beautiful girl, 
with soft blue eyes and golden hair, and a little pale 
from constantly staying below to nurse her father. 

“Of course, I had had little or nothing to say to her, 
for her father was a good deal of a swell and I was 
only a marine. But now she saw me standing there by 
myself, and she came right up to me. ‘Can you tell 
me, sir,’ she said, ‘if anything else has happened? 
They are making a great din in the engine-room. I 
have been looking out of our port, and the vessel 
seems to me to be stationary.’ She stopped at that, 
and waited to hear what I had to say, but I assure 
you I would have liked to have her go on talking 
for half an hour. Her voice was rich and sweet, like 
that of so many Englishwomen, although, I am happy 
to say, a great many of my countrywomen have just 
as good voices, and when I meet any of them for the 
first time, I generally give them the credit of talking 
in soft and musical notes, even though I have not had 
the pleasure of hearing them speak.” 

235 


THE WATER-DEVIL: A MARINE TALE 


“Look here,” said the blacksmith, “can’t you skip 
the girl and get back to the Devil? ” 

“No,” said the marine, “I couldn’t do that. The 
two are mixed together, so to speak, so that I have 
to tell you of both of them.” 

“You don’t mean to say,” exclaimed Mrs. Fryker, 
speaking for the first time, and by no means in soft 
and musical tones, “that he swallowed her?” 

“I’ll go on with the story,” said the marine. 
“That’s the best way, and everything will come up in 
its place. Now, of course, I wasn’t going to tell this 
charming young woman, with a sick father, anything 
about the Water-devil, though what reason to give 
her for our standing still there I couldn’t imagine ; but, 
of course, I had to speak, and I said , 1 Don’t be alarmed, 
miss. We have met with an unavoidable detention. 
That sort of thing often happens in navigation. I 
can’t explain it to you, but you see the ship is per- 
fectly safe and sound, and she is merely under sail 
instead of having her engines going.’ 

“‘I understood about that,’ said she, 4 and father 
and I were both perfectly satisfied, for he said that 
if we had a good breeze we would not be long in 
reaching Calcutta. But we seem to have a breeze, and 
yet we don’t go.’ ‘ You’ll notice,’ said I, That the 
sails are not all set, and for some reason the wind does 
not serve. When the engines are mended, we shall 
probably go spinning along.’ She looked as if she 
was trying to appear satisfied. ‘ Thank you, sir,’ she 
said. ‘I hope we may shortly proceed on our way, 
but in the meantime I shall not say anything to my 
father about this detention. I think he has not no- 
ticed it.’ ‘That would be very wise,’ I replied, and 
236 


THE WATER-DEVIL: A MARINE TALE 


as she turned toward the companionway I was wild 
to say to her that it would be a lot better for her to 
stay on deck and get some good fresh air, instead of 
cooping herself up in that close cabin. But I didn’t 
know her well enough for that.” 

“Now that you are through with the girl,” said the 
blacksmith, “what did the Devil do?” 

“I haven’t got to him yet,” said the marine, “but 
after Miss Minturn went below I began to think of 
him, and the more I thought of him, the less I liked 
him. I think the chief officer must have told the 
men below about the Water-devil, for pretty soon the 
while kit and boodle of them left their work and 
came on deck, skipper and all. They told me they 
had given up the engine as a bad job, and I thought 
to myself that most likely they were all too nervous 
to rightly know what they were about. The captain 
threw out the log again, but it floated alongside like 
a cork on a fishing-line, and at this he turned pale 
and walked away from the ship’s side, forgetting to 
pull it in again. 

“It was now beginning to grow dark, and as nobody 
seemed to think about supper, I went below to look 
into that matter. It wouldn’t do for Miss Minturn 
and her father to go without their regular meal, for 
that would be sure to scare them to death ; and if I’m 
to have a big scare, I like to take it on a good square 
meal. So I went below to see about it. But I wasn’t 
needed, for Miss Minturn’s maid, who was an elderly 
woman, and pretty sharp-set in her temper, was in the 
cook’s galley superintending supper for her people, 
and after she got through I superintended some for 
myself. 


237 


THE WATER-DEVIL: A MARINE TALE 


“After that I felt a good deal bolder, and I lighted 
a pipe and went on deck. There I found the whole 
ship’s company, officers and crew, none of them doing 
anything, and most of them clustered together in lit- 
tle groups, whispering or grunting. 

“I went up to the captain and asked him what he 
was going to do next. ‘Do?’ said he. ‘There is 
nothing to do. I’ve done everything that I can do. 
I’m all upset. I don’t know whether I am myself or 
some other man.’ And with that he walked away. 

“I sat there and smoked, and looked at them, and I 
can tell you the sight wasn’t cheerful. There was the 
ship, just as good and sound, as far as anybody could 
see, as anything that floated on the ocean, and here 
were all her people, shivering and shaking, and not 
speaking above their breath, looking for all the world, 
under the light of the stars and the ship’s lamps, 
which some of them had had sense enough to light, as 
if they expected in the course of the next half-hour 
to be made to walk the plank ; and, to tell the truth, 
what they were afraid of would come to pretty much 
the same thing.” 

“Mr. Cardly,” here interrupted Mr. Harberry, 
“how long does it take to count a million? ” 

“That depends,” said the schoolmaster, “on the 
rapidity of the calculator. Some calculators count 
faster than others. An ordinary boy, counting two 
hundred a minute, would require nearly three days 
and a half to count a million.” 

“Very good,” said Mr. Harberry. “Please go on 
with your story, sir.” 

“Of course,” said the marine, “there is a great 
difference between a boy and a water-devil, and it is 
238 


THE WATER-DEVIL : A MARINE TALE 


impossible for anybody to know bow fast the latter 
can count, especially as be may be supposed to be used 
to it. Well, I couldn’t stand it any longer on deck, 
and having nothing else to do, I turned in and went 
to sleep.” 

“To sleep ! Went to sleep !” exclaimed Mrs. Fry- 
ker. “I don’t see bow you could have done that.” 

“Ah, madam,” said the marine, “we soldiers of the 
sea are exposed to all sorts of dangers,— combination 
dangers, you might call them,— and in the course of 
time we get used to it. If we didn’t we couldn’t do 
our duty. 

“As the ship had been in its present predicament 
for six or seven hours, and nothing had happened, 
there was no reason to suppose that things would not 
remain as they were for six or seven hours more, in 
which time I might get a good sleep, and be better 
prepared for what might come. There’s nothing like 
a good meal and a good sleep as a preparation for 
danger. 

“It was daylight when I awakened, and rapidly 
glancing about me, I saw that everything appeared to 
be all right. Looking out of the port-hole, I could 
see that the vessel was still motionless. I hurried on 
deck, and was greatly surprised to find nobody there 
— no one on watch, no one at the wheel, no one any- 
where. I ran down into the fo’c’sle, which is the 
sailors’ quarters, but not a soul could I see. I called, 
I whistled, I searched everywhere, but no one an- 
swered. I could find no one. Then I dashed up 
on deck, and glared around me. Every boat was 
gone. 

“hTow I knew what had happened : the cowardly 
239 


THE WATER-DEVIL: A MARINE TALE 


rascals, from captain to cook, had deserted the ship in 
the night, and I had been left behind ! 

“For some minutes I stood motionless, wondering 
how men could be so unfeeling as to do such a thing. 
I soon became convinced, from what I had seen of the 
crew, that they had not all gone off together— that 
there had been no concerted action. A number of 
them had probably quietly lowered a boat and sneaked 
away. Then another lot had gone off, hoping their 
mates would not hear them and therefore crowd into 
their boat. And so they had all departed, not one 
boat-load thinking of anybody but themselves, or, if 
they thought at all about others, quieting their con- 
sciences by supposing that there were enough boats 
on the vessel, and that the other people were as likely 
to get off as they were. 

“Suddenly I thought of the other passengers. Had 
they been left behind ? I ran down below, and I had 
scarcely reached the bottom of the steps when I met 
Miss Minturn’s maid. ‘It seems to me/ she said 
sharply, ‘that the people on this ship are neglecting 
their duty. There’s nobody in the kitchen, and I 
want some gruel.’ ‘My good woman/ said I, ‘who 
do you want it for?’ ‘Who!’ she replied. ‘Why, 
for Mr. Minturn, of course ; and Miss Minturn may 
like some, too.’ 

“Then I knew that all the passengers had been left 
behind ! 

“‘If you want any gruel/ said I, ‘you will have to 
go into the galley and make it yourself.’ And then in 
a low tone I told her what had happened, for I knew 
that it would be much better for me to do this than 
for her to find it out for herself. Without a word she 
240 


THE WATER-DEVIL : A MARINE TALE 


sat right down on the floor, and covered her head 
with her apron. ‘ Now, don’t make a row/ said 1 , 1 and 
frighten your master and mistress to death. We’re all 
right so far, and all you’ve got to do is to take care 
of Mr. and Miss Minturn, and cook their meals. The 
steamer is tight and sound, and it can’t be long before 
some sort of a craft will come by and take us off.’ I 
left her sniffling, with her apron over her head, but 
when I came back, ten minutes afterwards, she was in 
the galley making gruel. 

“I don’t think you will be surprised, my friends,” 
continued the marine, “when I tell you that I now 
found myself in a terrible state of mind. Of course, I 
hadn’t felt very jovial since the steamer had been so 
wonderfully stopped, but when the captain and all 
the crew were aboard, I had that sort of confidence 
which comes from believing that when there are peo- 
ple about whose duty it is to do things, when the time 
comes to do the things, they will do them. But now, 
practically speaking, there was nobody but me. The 
others on board were not to be counted, except as en- 
cumbrances. In truth, I was alone— alone with the 
Water- devil ! 

“The moment I found no one to depend upon but 
myself, and that I was deserted in the midst of this 
lonely mass of water, in that moment did my belief 
in the Water-devil begin to grow. When I first 
heard of the creature, I didn’t consider that it was 
my business either to believe in it, or not to believe 
in it, and I could let the whole thing drop out of my 
mind, if I chose. But now it was a different matter. 
I was bound to think for myself, and the more I 
thought, the more I believed in the Water-devil. 

241 


THE WATER-DEVIL: A MARINE TALE 


“The fact was, there wasn’t anything else to believe 
in. I had gone over the whole question, and the skip- 
per had gone all over it, and everybody else had gone 
all over it, and no one could think of anything but a 
water-devil that could stop a steamer in this way in 
the middle of the Bay of Bengal, and hold her there 
hour after hour, in spite of wind and wave and tide. 
It could not be anything but the monster the Portu- 
guese had told us of, and all I now could do was to 
wonder whether, when he was done counting his mil- 
lion claws, he would be able to pull down a vessel of 
a thousand tons, for that was about the size of the 
General Brooks. 

“I think I should now have begun to lose my wits 
if it had not been for one thing, and that was the 
coming of Miss Minturn on deck. The moment I saw 
her lovely face I stiffened up wonderfully. ‘Sir,’ said 
she, ‘I would like to see the captain.’ ‘I am repre- 
senting the captain, miss,’ I said, with a bow. ‘ What 
is it that I can do for you ? ’ ‘I want to speak to him 
about the steward,’ she said. ‘I think he is neglect- 
ing his duty.’ ‘I also represent the steward,’ I re- 
plied. ‘Tell me what you wish of him.’ She made 
no answer to this, but looked about her in a startled 
way. ‘Where are all the men?’ she said. ‘Miss 
Minturn,’ said I, ‘I represent the crew— in fact, I 
represent the whole ship’s company except the cook, 
and his place must be taken by your maid.’ ‘ What 
do you mean?’ she asked, looking at me with her 
wide-opened, beautiful eyes. 

“Then, as there was no help for it, I told her every- 
thing, except that I did not mention the Water-devil 
in connection with our marvellous stoppage. I only 
242 


THE WATER-DEVIL : A MARINE TALE 


said that that was caused by something which nobody 
understood. 

“She did not sit down and cover her head, nor did 
she scream or faint. She turned pale, but looked 
steadily at me, and her voice did not shake as she 
asked me what was to be done. ‘ There is nothing to 
be done/ I answered, ‘but to keep up good hearts, 
eat three meals a day, and wait until a ship comes 
along and takes us off.’ 

“She stood silent for about three minutes. ‘I 
think/ she then said, ‘that I will not yet tell my fa- 
ther what has happened/ and she went below. 

“Now, strange to say, I walked up and down the 
deck with my hat cocked on one side and my hands 
in my pockets, feeling a great deal better. I did not 
like water-devils any more than I did before, and I 
did not believe in this one any less than I did before, 
but, after all, there was some good about him. It 
seems odd, but the arm of this submarine monster, 
over a mile long, for all that I knew, was a bond of 
union between the lovely Miss Minturn and me. She 
was a lady, I was a marine. So far as I knew any- 
thing about bonds of union, there wasn’t one that 
could have tackled itself to us two, except this long, 
slippery arm of the Water-devil, with one end in the 
monstrous flob at the bottom, and the other fast to 
our ship. 

“There was no doubt about it : if it hadn’t been for 
that Water-devil, she would have been no more to me 
than the Queen of Madagascar was. But, under the 
circumstances, if I wasn’t everything to her, who could 
be anything— that is, if one looked at the matter 
from a practical point of view?” 

243 


THE WATER-DEVIL: A MARINE TALE 


The blacksmith made a little movement of impa- 
tience. “ Suppose you cut all that,” said he. “I 
don’t care about the bond of union. I want to know 
what happened to the ship.” 

“It is likely,” said the marine, “if I could have cut 
the bond of union that I spoke of, that is to say, the 
Water- devil’s arm, that I would have done it, hoping 
that I might safely float off somewhere with Miss 
Minturn. But I couldn’t cut it then, and I can’t cut 
it now. That bond is part of my story, and it must 
all go on together. 

“I now set myself to work to do what I thought 
ought to be done under the circumstances, but, of 
course, that wasn’t very much. I hoisted a flag up- 
side down, and, after considering the matter, I con- 
cluded to take in all the sails that had been set. I 
thought that a steamer without smoke coming from 
her funnel, and no sails set, would be more likely to 
attract attention from distant vessels than if she ap- 
peared to be under sail. 

“I am not a regular sailor, as I said before, but I 
got out on the yard, and cut the square-sail loose and 
let it drop on the deck, and I let the jib come down 
on a run, and managed to bundle it up someway on 
the bowsprit. This sort of thing took all the nautical 
gymnastics that I was master of, and entirely occupied 
my mind, so that I found myself whistling while I 
worked. I hoped Miss Minturn heard me whistle, 
because it would not only give her courage, but would 
let her see that I was not a man who couldn’t keep 
up his spirits in a case like this. 

“When that work was over, I began to wonder what 
I should do next, and then an idea struck me. 1 Sup- 
244 


THE WATER-DEVIL: A MARINE TALE 


pose/ thought I, ‘ that we are not stationary, but that 
we are in some queer kind of a current, and that the 
water, ship, and all are steadily moving on together, 
so that after a while we shall come in sight of land, or 
into the track of vessels ! ’ 

“I instantly set about to find out if this was the 
case. It was about noon, and it so happened that on 
the day before, when the chief officer took his obser- 
vation, I was seized with a desire to watch him and 
see how he did it. I don’t see why I should have 
had this notion, but I had it, and I paid the strictest 
attention to the whole business, calculation part and 
all, and I found out exactly how it was done. 

“Well, then, I went and got the quadrant,— that’s 
the thing they do it with,— and I took an observation, 
and I found that we were in latitude 15° north, 90° 
east, exactly where we had been twenty-four hours 
before ! 

“When I found out this, I turned so faint that I 
wanted to sit down and cover up my head. The 
Water-devil had us— there was no mistake about it, 
and no use trying to think of anything else. I stag- 
gered along the deck, went below, and cooked myself 
a meal. In a case like this there’s nothing like a 
square meal to keep a man up. 

“I know you don’t like to hear her mentioned,” 
said the marine, turning to the blacksmith, “but I 
am bound to say that in course of the afternoon Miss 
Minturn came on deck several times, to ask if any- 
thing new had happened, and if I had seen a vessel. 
I showed her all that I had done, and told her I was 
going to hang out lights at night, and did everything 
I could to keep her on deck as long as possible ; for it 
245 


THE WATER-DEVIL : A MARINE TALE 


was easy to see that she needed fresh air, and I 
needed company. As long as I was talking to her I 
didn’t care a snap of my finger for the Water-devil. 
It is queer what an influence a beautiful woman has 
on a man, but it’s so, and there’s no use arguing about 
it. She said she had been puzzling her brains to find 
out what had stopped us, and she supposed it must be 
that we had run on to a shallow place and stuck fast 
in the mud, but thought it wonderful that there 
should be such a place so far from land. I agreed 
with her that it was wonderful, and added that that 
was probably the reason the captain and the crew 
had been seized with a panic. But sensible people 
like herself and her father, I said, ought not to be 
troubled by such an occurrence, especially as the ves- 
sel remained in a perfectly sound condition. 

“She said that her father was busily engaged in 
writing his memoirs, and that his mind was so occu- 
pied, he had not concerned himself at all about our 
situation— that is, if he had noticed that we were not 
moving. ‘If he wants to see the steward, or anybody 
else,’ I said, ‘please call upon me. You know, I rep- 
resent the whole ship’s company, and I shall be de- 
lighted to do anything for him or for you.’ She 
thanked me very much and went below. 

“She came up again, after this, but her maid came 
with her, and the two walked on deck for a while. I 
didn’t have much to say to them that time. But just 
before dark Miss Minturn came on deck alone, and 
walked forward, where I happened to be. ‘Sir,’ said 
She, and her voice trembled a little as she spoke, ‘if 
anything should happen, will you promise me that 
you will try to save my father? ’ You can’t imagine 
246 


THE WATER-DEVIL: A MARINE TALE 


how these touching words from this beautiful woman 
affected me. ‘My dear lady/ said I, and I hope she 
did not take offence at the warmth of my expression, 
‘I don’t see how anything can happen. But I promise 
you, on the word of a sea-soldier, that if danger should 
come upon us, I will save not only your father, but 
yourself and your maid. Trust me for that.’ 

“The look she gave me when I said these words, 
and especially the flash of her eye when I spoke of 
my being a sea-soldier, made me feel strong enough 
to tear that sea-monster’s arm in twain, and to sail 
away with the lovely creature for whom my heart 
was beginning to throb.” 

“It’s a pity,” said the blacksmith, “that you hadn’t 
jumped into the water while the fit was on you, and 
done the tearing.” 

“A man often feels strong enough to do a thing,” 
said the marine, “and yet doesn’t care to try to do it, 
and that was my case at that time. But I vowed to 
myself that if the time came when there was any sav- 
ing to be done, I’d attend to Miss Minturn, even if I 
had to neglect the rest of the family. 

“She didn’t make any answer, but she gave me her 
hand, and she couldn’t have done anything I liked 
better than that. I held it as long as I could, which 
wasn’t very long, and then she went down to her 
father.” 

“Glad of it,” said the blacksmith. 

“When I had had my supper, and had smoked my 
pipe, and everything was still, and I knew I shouldn’t 
see anybody any more that night, I began to have the 
quakes and the shakes. If even I had had the maid 
to talk to, it would have been a comfort. But in the 
247 


THE WATER-DEVIL : A MARINE TALE 


way of faithfully attending to her employers that 
woman was a trump. She cooked for them, and did 
for them, and stuck by them straight along, so she 
hadn’t any time for chats with me. 

“ Being alone, I couldn’t help all the time thinking 
about the Water-devil, and although it seems a foolish 
thing now that I look back on it, I set to work to 
calculate how long it would take him to count his 
feet. I made it about the same time as you did, sir,” 
nodding to the schoolmaster, “only I considered that 
if he counted twelve hours, and slept and rested 
twelve hours, that would make it seven days, which 
would give me a good long time with Miss Minturn, 
and that would be the greatest of joys to me, no mat- 
ter what happened afterwards. 

“But then, nobody could be certain that the monster 
at the bottom of the bay needed rest or sleep. He 
might be able to count without stopping, and how did 
I know that he couldn’t check off four hundred claws 
a minute ? If that happened to be the case, our time 
must be nearly up. 

“When that idea came into my head, I jumped up 
and began to walk about. What could I do ? I cer- 
tainly ought to be ready to do something when the 
time came. I thought of getting life-preservers and 
strapping one on each of us, so that if the Water-devil 
turned over the vessel and shook us out, we shouldn’t 
sink down to him, but would float on the surface. 

“But then the thought struck me that if he should 
find the vessel empty of live creatures, and should see 
us floating around on the top, all he had to do was to 
let go of the ship and grab us, one at a time. When 
I thought of a fist as big as a yawl -boat clapping its 
248 


THE WATER-DEVIL: A MARINE TALE 


fifty-two fingers on me, it sent a shiver through my 
bones. The fact was, there wasn’t anything to do, and 
so after a while I managed to get asleep, which was a 
great comfort.” 

“Mr. Cardly,” said Mr. Harberry to the school- 
master, “what reason can you assign why a sea-mon- 
ster, such as has been described to us, should neglect 
to seize upon several small boats filled with men who 
were escaping from a vessel which it held in custody ? ” 

“I do not precisely see,” answered Mr. Cardly, 
“why these men should have been allowed this im- 
munity, but I—” 

“Oh, that is easily explained,” interrupted the 
marine, “for, of course, the Water-devil could not 
know that a lot more people were not left in the ship, 
and if he let go his hold on her, to try and grab a boat 
that was moving as fast as men could row it, the 
steamer might get out of his reach, and he mightn’t 
have another chance for a hundred years to make fast 
to a vessel. No, sir, a creature like that isn’t apt to 
take any wild chances, when he’s got hold of a really 
good thing. Anyway, we were held tight and fast, 
for at twelve o’clock the next day I took another ob- 
servation, and there we were, in the same latitude 
and longitude that we had been in for two days. I 
took the captain’s glass, and I looked all over the 
water of that bay, which, as I think I have said before, 
was all the same as the ocean, being somewhere about 
a thousand miles wide. Not a sail, not a puff of 
smoke, could I see. It must have been a slack season 
for navigation, or else we were out of the common 
track of vessels. I had never known that the Bay of 
Bengal was so desperately lonely. 

249 


THE WATER-DEVIL: A MARINE TALE 


“It seems unnatural, and I can hardly believe it 
when I look back on it, but it’s a fact that I was be- 
ginning to get used to the situation. We had plenty 
to eat, the weather was fine— in fact, there was now 
only breeze enough to make things cool and comforta- 
ble. I was head man on that vessel, and Miss Minturn 
might come on deck at any moment, and as long as I 
could forget that there was a water-devil fastened to 
the bottom of the vessel, there was no reason why I 
should not be perfectly satisfied with things as they 
were. And if things had stayed as they were for two 
or three months, I should have been right well 
pleased, especially since Miss Minturn’s maid, by 
order of her mistress, had begun to cook my meals, 
which she did in a manner truly first-class. I believed 
then, and I stand to it now, that there is no better 
proof of a woman’s good feeling toward a man than 
for her to show an interest in his meals. That’s the 
sort of sympathy that comes home to a man, and tells 
on him, body and soul.” 

As the marine made this remark, he glanced at the 
blacksmith’s daughter. But that young lady had 
taken up her sewing, and appeared to be giving it her 
earnest attention. He then went on with his story : 

“But things did not remain as they were. The 
next morning, about half an hour after breakfast, I 
was walking up and down the upper deck, smoking 
my pipe, and wondering when Miss Minturn would 
be coming up to talk to me about the state of affairs, 
when suddenly I felt the deck beneath me move with 
a quick, sharp jerk, something like, I imagine, a small 
shock of an earthquake. 

“Never, in all my life, did the blood run so cold in 
250 


THE WATER-DEVIL: A MARINE TALE 


my veins ; my legs trembled so that I could scarcely 
stand. I knew what had happened— the Water- 
devil had begun to haul upon the ship ! 

“I was in such a state of collapse that I did not 
seem to have any power over my muscles. But, for 
all that, I heard Miss Minturn’s voice at the foot of 
the companionway, and knew that she was coming 
on deck. In spite of the dreadful awfulness of that 
moment, I felt it would never do for her to see me in 
the condition I was in, and so, shuffling and half 
tumbling, I got forward, went below, and made my 
way to the steward’s room, where I had already dis- 
covered some spirits, and I took a good dram ; for al- 
though I am not by any means a habitual drinker, 
being principled against that sort of thing, there are 
times when a man needs the support of some good 
brandy or whiskey. 

“In a few minutes I felt more like myself, and went 
on deck, and there was Miss Minturn, half scared to 
death. ‘What is the meaning of that shock?’ she 
said. ‘Have we struck anything?’ ‘My dear lady,’ 
said I, with as cheerful a front as I could put on, ‘I 
do not think we have struck anything. There is noth- 
ing to strike.’ She looked at me for a moment like 
an angel ready to cry, and, clasping her hands, she 
said, ‘Oh, tell me, sir, I pray you, sir, tell me what 
has happened. My father felt that shock. He sent 
me to inquire about it. His mind is disturbed.’ At 
that moment, before I could make an answer, there 
was another jerk of the ship, and we both went down 
on our knees, and I felt as if I had been tripped. I 
was up in a moment, however, but she continued on 
her knees. I am sure she was praying, but very soon 
251 


THE WATER-DEVIL: A MARINE TALE 


up she sprang. ‘Oh, what is it, what is it? ’ she cried. 
‘I must go to my father.’ ‘I cannot tell you,’ said 
I. ‘ I do not know. But don’t he frightened. How 
can such a little shock hurt so big a ship ? ’ 

“It was all very well to tell her not to be fright- 
ened, but when she ran below she left on deck about 
as frightened a man as ever stood in shoes. There 
could be no doubt about it. That horrible beast was 
beginning to pull upon the ship. Whether or not it 
would be able to draw us down below was a question 
which must soon be solved. 

“I had had a small opinion of the maid, who, when 
I told her the crew had deserted the ship, had sat 
down and covered her head. But now I did pretty 
much the same thing. I crouched on the deck and 
pulled my cap over my eyes. I felt that I did not 
wish to see, hear, or feel anything. 

“I had sat in this way for about half an hour, and 
had felt no more shocks, when a slight gurgling sound 
came to my ears. I listened for a moment, then 
sprang to my feet. Could we be moving? I ran to 
the side of the ship. The gurgle seemed to be coming 
from the stern. I hurried there and looked over. 
The wheel had been lashed fast, and the rudder stood 
straight out behind us. On each side of it there was 
a ripple in the quiet water. We were moving, and 
we were moving backward ! 

“Overpowered by horrible fascination, I stood 
grasping the rail and looking over at the water 
beneath me, as the vessel moved slowly and steadily 
onward, stern foremost. In spite of the upset condi- 
tion of my mind, I could not help wondering why the 
vessel should move in this way. 

252 


THE WATER-DEVIL: A MARINE TALE 


“ There was only one explanation possible : the 
Water-devil was walking along the bottom, and tow- 
ing us after him ! Why he should pull us along in 
this way I could not imagine, unless he was making 
for his home in some dreadful cave at the bottom, 
into which he would sink, dragging us down after him. 

“ While my mind was occupied with these horrible 
subjects, some one touched me on the arm, and turn- 
ing, I saw Miss Minturn. ‘ Are we not moving ? ’ she 
said. ‘Yes/ I answered, ‘we certainly are.’ ‘Do you 
not think/ she then asked, ‘that we may have been 
struck by a powerful current, which is now carrying 
us onward? ’ I did not believe this, for there was no 
reason to suppose that there were currents which 
wandered about, starting off vessels with a jerk, but I 
was glad to think that this idea had come into her 
head, and said that it was possible that this might be 
the case. ‘And now we are going somewhere/ she 
said, speaking almost cheerfully. ‘Yes, we are/ I an- 
swered, and I had to try hard not to groan as I said 
the words. ‘And where do you think we are going? ’ 
she asked. It was altogether out of my power to tell 
that sweet creature that, in my private opinion, she, 
at least, was going to heaven, and so I answered that I 
really did not know. ‘Well/ she said, ‘if we keep 
moving, we’re bound at last to get near land, or to 
some place where ships would pass near us.’ 

“There is nothing in this world,” said the marine, 
“which does a man so much good in time of danger 
as to see a hopeful spirit in a woman— that is, a 
woman that he cares about. Some of her courage 
comes to him, and he is better and stronger for having 
her alongside of him.” 


253 


THE WATER-DEVIL : A MARINE TALE 


Having made this remark, the speaker again 
glanced at the blacksmith’s daughter. She had put 
down her work and was looking at him with an 
earnest brightness in her eyes. 

“Yes,” he continued, “it is astonishing what a 
change came over me as I stood by the side of that 
noble girl. She was a born lady, I was a marine, just 
the same as we had been before, but there didn’t seem 
to be the difference between us that there had been. 
Her words, her spirits, everything about her, in fact, 
seemed to act on me, to elevate me, to fill my soul 
with noble sentiments, to make another man of me. 
Standing there beside her, I felt myself her equal. 
In life or death I would not be ashamed to say, 
* Here I am, ready to stand by you, whatever 
happens.’ ” 

Having concluded this sentiment, the marine again 
glanced toward the blacksmith’s daughter. Her eyes 
were slightly moist, and her face was glowing with a 
certain enthusiasm. 

“Look here,” said the blacksmith, “I suppose that 
woman goes along with you into the very maw of the 
sunken Devil, but I do wish you could take her more 
for granted, and get on faster with the real part of 
the story.” 

“One part is as real as another,” said the marine. 
“But on we go, and on we did go for the whole of the 
rest of that day, at the rate of about half a knot an 
hour, as near as I could guess at it. The weather 
changed, and a dirty sort of fog came down on us, so 
that we couldn’t see far in any direction. 

“Why that Water-devil should keep on towing us, 
and where he was going to take us, were things I 
254 


THE WATER-DEVIL. A MARINE TALE 


didn’t dare to think about. The fog did not prevent 
me from seeing the water about our stern, and I 
leaned over the rail, watching the ripples that flowed 
on each side of the rudder, which showed that we 
were still going at about the same uniform rate. 

“But toward evening the gurgling beneath me 
ceased, and I could see that the rudder no longer 
parted the quiet water, and that we had ceased to 
move. A flash of hope blazed up within me. Had 
the Water-devil found the ship too heavy a load, and 
had he given up the attempt to drag it to its under- 
ocean cave? I went below and had my supper. I 
was almost a happy man. When Miss Minturn came 
to ask me how we were getting along, I told her that 
I thought we were doing very well indeed. I did 
not mention that we had ceased to move, for she 
thought that a favorable symptom. She went back 
to her quarters greatly cheered up— not so much, I 
think, from my words as from my joyful aspect, for I 
did feel jolly, there was no doubt about it. If that 
Water-devil had let go of us, I was willing to take all 
the other chances that might befall a ship floating 
about loose on the Bay of Bengal. 

“The fog was so thick that night that it was damp 
and unpleasant on deck, and so, having hung out and 
lighted a couple of lanterns, I went below for a com- 
fortable smoke in the captain’s room. I was puf&ng 
away here at my ease, with my mind filled with 
happy thoughts of two or three weeks with Miss Min- 
turn on this floating paradise, where she was bound 
to see a good deal of me, and couldn’t help liking me 
better, and depending on me more and more every 
day, when I felt a little jerking shock. It was the 
255 


THE WATER-DEVIL: A MARINE TALE 


same thing that we had felt before. The Water-devil 
still had hold of us ! 

“I dropped my pipe, my chin fell upon my breast, 
I shivered all over. In a few moments I heard the 
maid calling to me, and then she ran into the room. 
‘Miss Minturn wants to know, sir/ she said, ‘if you 
think that shock is a sudden twist in the current 
which is carrying us on?’ I straightened myself up 
as well as I could, and in the dim light I do not 
think she noticed my condition. I answered that I 
thought it was something of that sort, and she went 
away. 

“ ‘ More likely a twist of the Devil’s arm/ I thought, 
as I sat there alone in my misery. 

“In ten or fifteen minutes there came two shocks, 
not very far apart. This showed that the creature 
beneath us was at work in some way or other. 
Perhaps he had reached the opening of his den, and 
was shortening up his arm before he plunged down 
into it with us after him. I couldn’t stay any longer 
in that room alone. I looked for the maid, but she 
had put out the galley light, and had probably turned 
in for the night. 

“I went up, and looked out on deck, but everything 
was horribly dark and sticky and miserable there. I 
noticed that my lanterns were not burning, and then 
I remembered that I had not filled them. But this 
did not trouble me. If a vessel came along and saw 
our lights, she would probably keep away from us, and 
I would have been glad to have a vessel come to us, 
even if she ran into us. Our steamer would probably 
float long enough for us to get on board the other one, 
and almost anything would be better than being left 
256 


THE WATER-DEVIL : A MARINE TALE 


alone in this dreadful place, at the mercy of the 
Water-devil. 

“ Before I left the deck I felt another shock. This 
took out of me whatever starch was left, and I shuffled 
below and got to my bunk, where I tumbled in and 
covered myself up, head and all. If there had been 
any man to talk to, it would have been different, but 
I don’t know when I ever felt more deserted than I 
did at that time. 

“I tried to forget the awful situation in which I 
was. I tried to think of other things— to imagine that 
I was drilling with the rest of my company, with Tom 
Rogers on one side of me, and old Humphrey Peters 
on the other. You may say, perhaps, that this wasn’t 
exactly the way of carrying out my promise of taking 
care of Miss Minturn and the others. But what was 
there to do? When the time came to do anything, 
and I could see what to do, I was ready to do it, but 
there was no use of waking them up now and setting 
their minds on edge, when they were all comfortable 
in their beds, thinking that every jerk of the Devil’s 
arm was a little twist in the current that was carrying 
them to Calcutta or some other desirable port. 

“I felt some shocks after I got into bed, but 
whether or not there were many in the night, I don’t 
know, for I went to sleep. It was daylight when I 
awoke, and jumping out of my bunk, I dashed on 
deck. Everything seemed pretty much as it had 
been, and the fog was as thick as ever. I ran to the 
stern and looked over, and I could scarcely believe 
my eyes when I saw that we were moving again, still 
stern foremost, but a little faster than before. That 
beastly Water-devil had taken a rest for the night, 
257 


THE WATER-DEVIL : A MARINE TALE 


and had probably given us the shocks by turning over 
in his sleep, and now he was off again, making up for 
lost time. 

“ Pretty soon Miss Minturn came on deck, and bade 
me good morning, and then she went and looked over 
the stern. ‘We are still moving on,’ she said, with a 
smile, ‘and the fog doesn’t seem to make any differ- 
ence. It surely cannot be long before we get some- 
where.’ ‘No, miss,’ said I, ‘it cannot be very long.’ 
‘You look tired,’ she said, ‘and I don’t wonder, for 
you must feel the heavy responsibility on you. I 
have told my maid to prepare breakfast for you in 
our cabin. I want my father to know you, and I 
think it is a shame that you, the only protector that 
we have, should be shut off so much by yourself, so 
after this we shall eat together.’ ‘After this,’ I 
groaned to myself, ‘we shall be eaten together.’ At 
that moment I did not feel that I wanted to breakfast 
with Miss Minturn.” 

“Mr. Cardly,” said Mr. Harberry to the school- 
master, “have you ever read, in any of your scientific 
books, that the Bay of Bengal is subject to heavy fogs 
that last day after day f ” 

“I cannot say,” answered the schoolmaster, “that 
my researches into the geographical distribution of 
fogs have resulted—” 

“As to fogs,” interrupted the marine, “you can’t 
get rid of them, you know. If you had been in the 
habit of going to sea, you would know that you are 
likely to run into a fog at any time, and in any 
weather. And as to lasting, they are just as likely to 
last for days as for hours. It wasn’t the fog that sur- 
prised me. I did not consider that of any account at 
258 


THE WATER-DEVIL: A MARINE TALE 


all. I had enough other things to occupy my mind.” 
And having settled this little matter, he went on 
with his story : 

“Well, my friends, I did not breakfast with Miss 
Minturn and her father. Before that meal was ready, 
and while I was standing alone at the stern, I saw 
coming out of the water, a long way off in the fog, 
which must have been growing thinner about this 
time, a dark and mysterious object, apparently with- 
out any shape or form. This sight made the teeth 
chatter in my head. I had expected to be pulled 
down to the Water-devil, but I had never imagined 
that he would come up to us ! 

“While my eyes were glued upon this apparition 
I could see that we were approaching it. When I 
perceived this, I shut my eyes and turned my back— 
I could look upon it no longer. My mind seemed to 
forsake me. I did not even try to call out and give 
the alarm to the others. Why should I? What 
could they do?” 

“If it had been me,” said Mrs. Fryker, in a sort of 
gasping whisper, “I should have died right there.” 

The marine turned his eyes in the direction of the 
blacksmith’s daughter. She was engaged with her 
work, and was not looking at him. 

“I cannot say,” he continued, “that, had Miss 
Minturn been there at that moment, I would not 
have declared that I was ready to die for her or with 
her. But there was no need of trying to keep up her 
courage. That was all right. She knew nothing of our 
danger. That terrible knowledge pressed on me 
alone. Is it wonderful that a human soul should sink 
a little under such an awful load ? ” 


259 


THE WATER-DEVIL : A MARINE TALE 


Without turning to observe the effect of these last 
words, the marine went on : 

“ Suddenly I heard behind me a most dreadful 
sound. ‘Good heavens ! 7 I exclaimed, ‘can a water- 
devil bray ? 7 

“The sound was repeated. Without knowing what 
I did, I turned. I heard what sounded like words. I 
saw in the fog the stern of a vessel, with a man above 
it, shouting to me through a speaking-trumpet. 

“I do not know what happened next. My mind 
must have become confused. When I regained my 
senses, Miss Minturn, old Mr. Minturn, and the maid 
were standing by me. The man had stopped shouting 
from his trumpet, and a boat was being lowered from 
the other ship. In about ten minutes there were 
half a dozen men on board of us, all in the uniform of 
the British navy. I was stiff enough now, and felt 
myself from top to toe a regular marine in the service 
of my country. I stepped up to the officer in com- 
mand and touched my cap. 

“He looked at me and my companions in surprise, 
and then, glancing along the deck, said, ‘What has 
happened to this vessel 1 ? Who is in command ? 7 

“I informed him that, strictly speaking, no one was 
in command, but that I represented the captain, offi- 
cers, and crew of this steamer, the General Brooks , from 
San Francisco to Calcutta, and I then proceeded to tell 
him the whole story of our misfortunes, and concluded 
by telling the officer that if we had not moved since 
his vessel had come in sight, it was probably because 
the Water-devil had let go of us, and was preparing 
to make fast to the other ship, and therefore it would 
260 


THE WATER-DEVIL : A MARINE TALE 


be advisable for ns all to get on board bis vessel, and 
steam away as qnickly as possible. 

“The Englishmen looked at me in amazement. 
‘Drunk!’ ejaculated the officer I had addressed. 
‘Cracked, I should say,’ suggested another. Then 
spoke up Mr. Minturn. ‘ I do not understand what I 
have just heard,’ he said. ‘What is a water-devil? 
I am astounded.’ ‘You never said a word of this to 
me !’ exclaimed Miss Minturn. ‘You never told me 
that we were in the grasp of a water-devil, and that 
that was the reason the captain and the crew ran 
away.’ ‘No,’ said I, ‘I never divulged the dreadful 
danger we were in. I allowed you to believe that we 
were in the influence of a current, and that the shocks 
we felt were the sudden twists of that current. The 
terrible truth I kept to myself. Not for worlds would 
I have made known to a tenderly nurtured lady, to 
her invalid father, and devoted servant, what might 
have crushed their souls, driven them to the borders 
of frenzy, in which case the relief which now has 
come to us would have been of no avail.’ 

“The officer stood and steadily stared at me. ‘I 
declare,’ he said, ‘you do not look like a crazy man. 
At what time did this Water-devil begin to take you 
in tow? ’ ‘Yesterday morning,’ I answered. ‘And he 
stopped during last night?’ he asked. I replied that 
that was the case. Then he took off his cap, rubbed 
his head, and stood silent for a minute. ‘We’ll look 
into this matter ! ’ he suddenly exclaimed, and turning, 
he and his party left us to ourselves. The boat was 
now sent back with a message to the English vessel, 
and the officers and men who remained scattered 


261 


THE WATER-DEVIL : A MARINE TALE 


themselves over our steamer, examining the engine- 
room, hold, and every part of her. 

“I was very much opposed to all this delay, for, al- 
though the Englishmen might doubt the existence of 
the Water- devil, I saw no reason to do so, and, in any 
case, I was very anxious to be on the safe side by get- 
ting away as soon as possible. But, of course, British 
officers would not be advised by me, and as I was get- 
ting very hungry, I went down to breakfast. I ate 
this meal alone, for my fellow-passengers seemed to 
have no desire for food. 

“I cannot tell all that happened during the next 
hour, for, to tell the truth, I did not understand 
everything that was done. The boat passed several 
times between the two vessels, bringing over a number 
of men— two of them scientific fellows, I think. An- 
other was a diver, whose submarine suit and air- 
pumping machines came over with him. He was 
lowered over the side, and after he had been down 
about fifteen minutes he was hauled up again, and 
down below was the greatest hammering and hauling 
that ever you heard. The General Brooks was put in 
charge of an officer and some men, a sail was hoisted 
to keep her in hand, so that she wouldn’t drift into 
the other ship, and in the midst of all the rowdydow 
we were told that if we liked we might go on board 
the English vessel immediately. 

“Miss Minturn and her party instantly accepted 
this invitation, and although under ordinary circum- 
stances I would have remained to see for myself what 
these people found out, I felt a relief in the thought 
of leaving that vessel which is impossible for me to 
express, and I got into the boat with the others. 

262 


THE WATER-DEVIL : A MARINE TALE 


“We were treated very handsomely on board the 
English vessel, which was a mail-steamship, at that 
time in the employment of the English government. 
I told my story at least half a dozen times, sometimes 
to the officers and sometimes to the men, and whether 
they believed me or not, I don’t think any one ever 
created a greater sensation with a story of the sea. 

“In an hour or so the officer in charge of the opera- 
tions on the General Brooks came aboard. As he 
passed me on his way to the captain, he said, ‘We 
found your Water-devil, my man.’ ‘And he truly 
had us in tow? ’ I cried. ‘Yes, you are perfectly cor- 
rect,’ he said, and went on to make his report to the 
captain.” 

“Now, then,” said the blacksmith, “I suppose we 
are going to get to the p’int. What did he report?” 

“I didn’t hear his report,” said the marine, “but 
everybody soon knew what had happened to our un- 
lucky vessel, and I can give you the whole story of it. 
The General Brooks sailed from San Francisco to Cal- 
cutta with a cargo of stored electricity, contained in 
large, strongly made boxes. This I knew nothing 
about, not being in the habit of inquiring into cargoes. 
Well, in some way or other, which I don’t understand, 
not being a scientific man myself, a magnetic connec- 
tion was formed between these boxes, and also, if I 
got the story straight, between them and the iron 
hull of our vessel, so that it became, in fact, an enor- 
mous floating magnet— one of the biggest things of the 
kind on record. I have an idea that this magnetic 
condition was the cause of the trouble to our machin- 
ery. Every separate part of it was probably turned 
to a magnet, and they all stuck together.” 

263 


THE WATER-DEVIL: A MARINE TALE 


“Mr. Cardly,” said Mr. Harberry to the school- 
master, “I do not suppose you have given much at- 
tention to the study of commerce, and therefore are 
not prepared to give us any information in regard to 
stored electricity as an article of export from this 
country. But perhaps you can tell us what stored 
electricity is, and how it is put into boxes.” 

“In regard to the transportation,” answered the 
schoolmaster, speaking a little slowly, “of encased 
electric potency, I cannot—” 

“Oh, bless me!” interrupted the marine, “that is 
all simple enough. You can store electricity and send 
it all over the world, if you like. In places like Cal- 
cutta, I think it must be cheaper to buy it than to 
make it. They use it as a motive power for sewing- 
machines, apple -parers, and it can be used in a lot of 
ways, such as digging post-holes and churning butter. 
When the stored electricity in a box is all used up, 
all you have to do is to connect a fresh box with your 
machinery, and there you are, ready to start again. 
There was nothing strange about our cargo. It was 
the electricity leaking out and uniting itself and the 
iron ship into a sort of conglomerate magnet that was 
out of the way.” 

“Mr. Cardly,” said Mr. Harberry, “if an iron ship 
were magnetized in that manner, wouldn’t it have a 
deranging effect upon the needle of the compass ? ” 
The marine did not give the schoolmaster time to 
make answer. “Generally speaking,” said he, “that 
sort of thing would interfere with keeping the vessel 
on its proper course, but with us it didn’t make any 
difference at all. The greater part of the ship was in 
front of the binnacle, where they keep the compass, 
264 


THE WATER-DEVIL : A MARINE TALE 


and so the needle naturally pointed that way, and as 
we were going north before a south wind, it was all 
right. 

“ Being a floating magnet, of course, did not prevent 
our sailing, so we went along well enough until we 
came to longitude 90°, latitude 15° north. Now, it so 
happened that a telegraphic cable which had been 
laid down by the British government, to establish 
communication between Madras and Rangoon, had 
broken some time before, and not very far from this 
point. 

“Now, you can see for yourselves that when an 
enormous mass of magnetic iron, in the shape of the 
General Brooks , came sailing along there, the part of 
that cable which lay under us was so attracted by 
such a powerful and irresistible force that its broken 
end raised itself from the bottom of the bay and 
reached upward until it touched our ship, when it 
laid itself along our keel, to which it instantly became 
fastened as firmly as if it had been bolted and riveted 
there. Then, as the rest of this part of the cable was 
on the bottom of the bay all the way to Madras, of 
course we had to stop. That’s simple enough. That’s 
the way the Water-devil held us fast in one spot for 
two days. 

“The British government determined not to repair 
this broken cable, but to take it up and lay down a 
better one. So they chartered a large steamer, and 
fitted her up with engines and a big drum that they 
use for that sort of thing, and set her to work to wind 
up the Madras end of the broken cable. She had been 
at this business a good while before we were caught 
by the other end, and when they got near enough to 
265 


THE WATER-DEVIL : A MARINE TALE 


us for their engines to be able to take un the slack 
from the bottom between us and them, then, of course, 
they pulled upon us, and we began to move. And 
when they lay to for the night, and stopped the wind- 
ing business, of course we stopped, and the stretch of 
cable between the two ships had no effect upon us, 
except when the big mail-steamer happened to move 
this way or that, as they kept her head to the wind. 
And that’s the way we lay quiet all night except 
when we got our shocks. 

“ When they set the drum going again in the morn- 
ing, it wasn’t long before they wound us near enough 
for them to see us, which they would have done sooner 
if my lights hadn’t gone out so early in the even- 
ing.” 

“And that,” said the blacksmith, with a somewhat 
severe expression on his face, “is all that you have to 
tell about your wonderful Water-devil ! ” 

“All ! ” said the marine. “I should say it was quite 
enough, and nothing could be more wonderful than 
what really happened. A water-devil is one of two 
things : he is real, or he’s not real. If he’s not real, 
he’s no more than an ordinary spook or ghost, and is 
not to be practically considered. If he’s real, then 
he’s a live animal, and can be put in a class with 
other animals, and described in books, because, even 
if nobody sees him, the scientific men know how he 
must be constructed, and then he’s no more than a 
great many other wonderful things which we can see 
alive, stuffed, or in plaster casts. 

“But if you want to put your mind upon something 
really wonderful, just think of a snake -like rope of 
wire, five or six hundred miles long, lying down at 
266 


THE WATER-DEVIL : A MARINE TALE 


the very bottom of the great Bay of Bengal, with no 
more life in it than there is in a ten-penny nail. 

“Then imagine that long dead wire snake to be 
suddenly filled with life, and to know that there was 
something far up above it, on the surface of the 
water, that it wants to reach up to and touch. Think 
of it lifting and flapping its broken end, and then im- 
agine it raising yard after yard of itself up and up, 
through the solemn water, more and more of it lifting 
itself from the bottom, curling itself backward and 
forward as it rises higher and higher, until at last, 
with a sudden jump that must have ripped a mile or 
more of it from the bottom, it claps its end against 
the thing it wants to touch, and which it can neither 
see, nor hear, nor smell, but which it knows is there. 
Could there be anything in this world more wonder- 
ful than that ? 

“And then, if that isn’t enough of a wonder, think 
of the Rangoon end of that cable squirming and wrig- 
gling and stretching itself out toward our ship, but 
not being able to reach us on account of a want of 
slack— just as alive as the Madras part of the cable, 
and just as savage and frantic to get up to us and lay 
hold of us. And then, after our vessel had been gradu- 
ally pulled away from it, think of this other part get- 
ting weaker and weaker, minute by minute, until it 
falls flat on the bay, as dead as any other iron thing ! ” 

The marine ceased to speak, and Mrs. Fryker 
heaved a sigh. 

“It makes me shiver to think of all that down so 
deep,” she said. “But I must say I am disappointed.” 

“In what way?” asked the marine. 

“A water-devil,” said she, “as big as six whales, and 
267 


THE WATER-DEVIL : A MARINE TALE 


with a funnelly mouth to suck in people, is different. 
But, of course, after all, it was better as it was.” 

“Look here,” said the blacksmith, “what became of 
the girl? I wanted her finished up long ago, and you 
haven’t done it yet.” 

“Miss Minturn, you mean,” said the marine. 
“Well, there is not much to say about her. Things 
happened in the usual way. When the danger was 
all over, when she had other people to depend upon 
besides me, and we were on board a fine steamer, with 
a lot of handsomely dressed naval officers, and going 
comfortably to Madras, of course she thought no more 
of the humble sea-soldier who once stood between her 
and— nobody knew what. In fact, the only time 
she spoke to me after we got on board the English 
steamer, she made me feel, although she didn’t say it 
in words, that she was not at all obliged to me for 
supposing that she would have been scared to death 
if I had told her about the Water-devil.” 

“I suppose,” said the blacksmith, “by the time you 
got back to your ship you had overstayed your leave 
of absence a good while. Did your captain let you 
off when you told him this story of the new-fashioned 
Water-devil?” 

The marine smiled. “I never went back to the 
Apache” he said. “When I arrived at Madras I 
found that she had sailed from Calcutta. It was, of 
course, useless for me to endeavor to follow her, and I 
therefore concluded to give up the marine service for 
a time, and go into another line of business, about 
which it is too late to tell you now.” 

“Mr. Cardly,” said Mr. Harberry to the school ■» 
master, “have you ever read that the British govern- 
268 


THE WATER-DEVIL: A MARINE TALE 


ment has a submarine cable from Madras to Ran- 
goon?” 

The marine took it upon himself to answer this 
question. “The cable of which I spoke to you,” he 
said, “was taken up, as I told you, and I never heard 
that another one was laid. But it is getting late, and 
I think I will go to bed. I have a long walk before 
me to-morrow.” So saying, he rose, put his pipe upon 
the mantelpiece, and bade the company good night. 
As he did so, he fixed his eyes on the blacksmith’s 
daughter. But that young lady did not look at him. 
She was busily reading the weekly newspaper which 
her father had left upon the table. 

Mr. Harberry now rose, preparatory to going home. 
As he buttoned up his coat, he looked from one to 
another of the little group, and remarked : “I have 
often heard that marines are a class of men who are 
considered as fit subjects to tell tough stories to, but 
it strikes me that the time has come when the tables 
are beginning to be turned.” 


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